In the City at Night
by Kyeian
Summary: COMPLETE. Stop, drop, and roll...or pull out before you get burned. Heero, Trowa, Quatre, and Wufei run across someone they use to know...past tense. Note: strong language.
1. Name Games

**Name Game**

"You gotta be shittin' me," Jordan breathed as he lowered the half-full bottle of beer from his lips, watching in complete shock as he saw Heero...for the first time in years. Heero hadn't changed much that he could notice, other than the fact that he was obviously flirting with a girl at the bar.

"What's up?" Chai asked, her amethyst eyes flashing in the light as she followed his gaze to a man at the bar, "I thought you liked girls?" she wouldn't have questioned it if his focus hadn't been _on_ the guy. "If you think that's impressive..."

Jordan focused on her instantly with his own amethyst eyes, blinking in amazement, "Impressive? Dude, he's a god!" Jordan laughed at the thought and slid from his seat, crossing the room slowly as his heart pounded. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous about seeing Heero or approaching him, but a sick fear was resting deep in his stomach. "Uh…hey, O," he muttered lamely as he moved closer to the guy, not sure what name he was going by anymore.

Heero focused on him, brief irritation moving through his eyes as he looked from the girl he'd been talking to, then stared at Jordan as he actually _saw_ him.

"Uh…long time…um, long time no see, eh?" Jordan muttered, a sick nausea of certainty resting hard in his throat. He hadn't missed the irritation.

The girl who'd had Heero's attention was now glaring at the braided male, "I think you've got the wrong person. Right, Aaron?" she asked, scooting over to be closer to Heero.

"How have you been?" Heero asked, ignoring the other completely as his own emotions caught up with him. "Oh my god, it's been an age!" he laughed, throwing his arms around Jordan's shoulders.

"Aaron?" the girl asked blankly.

Jordan was just about as shocked himself.

"Dude, I'm sorry," Heero muttered to her, indicating the purple-eyed American. "Old friends, man…gotta fly," he flashed the chick a grin. "I'll have to catch you around some other time. Come on…" he flicked his eyes at Jordan.

"Jordan," he whispered instantly, wondering when he'd started thinking of _himself_ by the name.

"Jordan," Heero added without missing a beat, grinning at his old friend. "You've got some nice jewelry," he added, indicating the bracelet on the braided one's wrist. "It'd look good on my nightstand."

Jordan choked back a laugh of sheer disbelief as he was shoved and pushed away from the glowering woman at the bar. "I like your shirt," he muttered in keeping with the old exchange of random pick-up lines. "You should show it to the dust bunnies under my bed…they won't let you join them, but I'll keep you warm."

Heero laughed, making a slight face. "That was bad…are you even _trying_?"

"Um…" the braided male swallowed hard, "you're _here_. I think I can get a break."

Heero chuckled, studying Jordan a long moment. "Dude, you're really alive?" He cupped Jordan's chin, turning his face from one side to the other as he studied for stress-lines. "Life's been good to you."

"Yeah," Jordan agreed, numb with shock. He'd really thought that Heero had been angry with him, but that was gone. Jor could _tell_ that Heero was just _happy_ to see him again.

"Well lead on," Heero muttered slightly peevishly. "I didn't see you, you saw me," he grabbed the end of the braid, which hung lower than Jordan's waist and fiddled with the ends the way he'd always done before.

Jordan laughed nervously, looking around to get his bearings, finally spotting Chai. She had sat up and was blinking at him with a vaguely curious expression.

"How are you a god?" she demanded abruptly of Heero as they approached.

Without missing a beat, Heero recalled the old joke and smirked at the woman. "I'd do things to you you'd never dreamed of before," he explained promptly, grinning slightly and narrowing his eyes at her, "and that doesn't even begin to touch what Jordan'd be doing at the same time."

Jordan sniggered, ducking down slightly as Chai broke into naughty giggles and gave Jor a completely disbelieving look. The guy shrugged at her, not knowing how to explain the old game, or really wanting to. Chai needed her cup of tea stirred up once and a while, after all.

Looking back to Heero, Chai raised one elegant eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"And then," Heero added in a low voice, focusing his eyes on Jordan as he leaned forward slightly, "I could just…sit back…and watch him go."

Jordan slid into his seat and laughed helplessly. This was, but was not the same Heero he'd known before. The guy _had_ been a shy introvert, though Jor had managed to bring out of his shell around friends. Hence the jokes.

"Or maybe," Heero added with a smirk, "he could watch _me_ go…whichever you prefer."

"I don't get a choice?" Jordan demanded, laughing a little more.

Chai's eyes were huge as she focused on her roommate. "What _the_ hell?"

Jordan and Heero sniggered, meeting eyes a moment as the guy slid down into the booth as well. He turned an absolutely beatific smile on the woman, presenting her with a completely innocent expression.

Starting to laugh, Jordan leaned over and smacked his friend lightly in the stomach, which caused Heero to laugh his own evil laugh as they met eyes and stared at each other in silence. Five years had changed them, but not horribly…

"What's…what's going on?" Jordan managed finally, looking around the room as he spotted a few more familiar faces. The other three were casting sidelong looks in Heero's direction, but the lighting of the bar was just bad enough to elude them.

"How the hell did you get here?" Heero muttered in return. "Une said you fell off the face of the planet."

"What did you think I was _trying_ to do?" Jordan returned, frowning slightly. "I wasn't going to be her guinea pig, and I wasn't going to live under her thumb. That may be fine for you lot, but I was raised so that I didn't _have_ someone shoving a tissue in my face every time I sneezed."

Heero sat back, frowning at him. "It wasn't _that_ bad."

"Uh…" Chai sat back in her seat as she studied them.

"You, pussycat," Heero muttered, pointing at her, "Should probably make yourself scarce. Things around here may get pretty ugly here shortly, and I have a feeling Jordan'd prefer it if you weren't in the vicinity."

Jordan narrowed his eyes. "What _are_ you doing here, anyway?"

"You packing?" Heero demanded instead, meeting his eyes again. "Armor?"

The braided one raised an eyebrow. "I don't _need_ armor around here."

"But you're armed?" Heero snapped.

"Of course I am," Jor snapped in return. "Don't be offensive."

Heero gave him a disgusted look, then focused pointedly on the woman.

Chai rose to her feet slowly, grabbing her purse—then her beer, meeting Jordan's eyes for his final call.

Jordan considered the ramifications of Heero's questions a moment before nodding at the girl. She frowned, then started for the door. "Don't take too long."

"I _won't_," he called in annoyance. "Just don't go far."

"No _shit_!" she snapped, moving out of earshot.

Heero blinked.

"What's going on?" Jordan demanded. The idea of Chai alone in the streets was enough to set his blood cold.

"Aaron, what…are…you…" Wufei's voice had gone from cocky to confused in one-point-seven seconds. A new record.

"What's it look like, Daniel?" Heero asked, smirking up at the guy. "Amazing what you find when you're looking for something else, huh?"

Wufei grinned largely, gesturing across the bar and raising his voice. "Cody, Toby!"

"We're close enough we can _smell_ him," Heero muttered quietly. "Don't give us away."

"Duo's a bit more important," Wufei replied, his eyes sweeping the bar.

"I'm Jordan now," Jordan snapped, sitting up again. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Chance dictates," Heero muttered happily, "that you find yourself in the middle of rebel head-quarters of a few jackasses intent on killing certain…precious items. What do you do?"

"Blow them to hell and back," Jordan replied, promptly, his odd colored eyes flashing before he frowned at Heero.

Heero laughed a naughty laugh. "That's what _you'd_ do…and as such would have been the case, I would have been assigned to tail you and keep you from killing people."

"That doesn't answer my question, though," Jordan muttered, darkly, glaring at Heero. He didn't want a general mission outline.

"Fuck," Trowa hissed as he joined Wufei, staring down at the braided pilot in disbelief.

"Toby, put your eyes back in," Wufei muttered—Jordan realized that they were giving him names to call them by without blowing their cover…or maybe, like himself, they'd just assumed new names.

"Holy shit," Quatre breathed, stopping behind Trowa. "_Holy_ shit."

Heero laughed as Quatre leaned over him to hug Jordan briefly. "You're still alive!"

"I'm not completely stupid," Jordan muttered happily, accepting the hug. He couldn't help his own excitement, even with the vague irritant of no explanation for their presence. The idea that maybe they'd come for _him_ crossed his mind, but was dismissed. They wouldn't be fucking around with hugs and discussion. They would have swooped in like swat and taken him before Chai even got a good _look_ at them.

"Obviously, if you disappeared so completely and were here all along," Trowa agreed, his tone assuming its normally sarcastic note.

"What is going on?" Jordan asked them carefully, looking from face to face. He'd have been ecstatic that they were there if Heero hadn't prefaced the entire situation by asking him if he were armed.

"I _told_ you what's going on," Heero replied darkly.

"You told me generic details," Jordan replied acidly. "You chased my girl away, and I have this feeling that my cover is completely blown."

"Well…we found you," Quatre muttered, his blue eyes looking worried. "I mean…we can't just…"

"Oi, Jor!"

Jordan shifted instantly at Stephan's voice so he could see the man's face. "Wha'd'ya want?" he demanded in irritation. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Jon wants to talk to you, fucker," Stephan replied, completely nonplussed. "Get your ass up there."

"I'm not fuckin' going up there alone, genius," Jordan snapped back.

"It's not my fault you fucked his sister, moron. He wants to talk to you, go see him or he'll get testy."

Heero was staring at Jordan, his eyes considerate. "Bring me with you," he ordered.

Jordan's eyes flashed with amusement and he focused on Stephan again. "What did the asshole tell you specifically?"

"He said that Jordan was here and he wanted to talk to him. Told me to arrange it."

"Good," Jordan muttered, shoving at Heero.

"Um…he didn't say you could _bring_ anyone," Stephan muttered, barring Heero's path.

"But he didn't say I couldn't," Jordan replied. "You really want to fuck with me, Stephie?" He moved so he was in Stephan's face. "You really want to see what I can do to you?"

Stephan's eyes narrowed. "Try me, jack-ass. I'm not helpless. You intimidate everyone you meet, but obviously you don't really act on it."

Jordan shoved him hard against the door, leaning in so they were eye to eye. "What I do with people I've fucked over is my business, isn't it?" he purred. "When I decide to take blame, it's my business. You know as well as I do that Jon would kick my ass if he could. I don't trust him to _not_ have some goons up there waiting for me."

Stephan didn't want to back down, but he couldn't stay up. He avoided Jordan's eyes. "He's not like that…and you're full of shit."

Heero moved instantly, though not instantly enough. Jordan had downed the man and knocked him out in about two-second's time. People were watching curiously all over the bar and the rest of the security in the area didn't seem too inclined to interfere.

Jordan spat at the unconscious man, his eyes scanning the crowd dangerously before he grabbed Heero by the front of the shirt and pulled him after him into the hallway.

"You never change," Heero noted, trying not to be amused. "You could have killed that man," he added, gesturing at the door toward the floor.

"I should have killed that man," Jordan agreed, irritated. "I also should have known that Jon wasn't going to let it slide."

"Um…do I want to know?" Heero asked, looking the hall over.

"Maybe," Jordan conceded, shrugging and starting for a set of stairs, "but I'm not planning on telling you, so I suggest you quell your curiosity."

"Jon…" Heero muttered, following that last instruction and moving on, "Jonathan Breer?"

Jordan turned and met his eyes, pausing on the stairs.

"You're not…involved with him, are you?" Heero breathed, trying not to imagine the ex-pilot in close with a traitor.

Jordan looked away from his eyes, then started up the stairs.

"Duo," Heero started, "we have to do this, we have to…"

"I'm Jordan now."

Heero frowned as he paused on the stairs.

"I don't suggest you linger," Jordan added over his shoulder as he neared the top. "Security sweeps these halls every five or ten minutes. The rooms at the top of these stairs belong to Jon and that means there's only one reason for you to be on them."

Heero moved quickly to catch up as Jordan flung the door open.

"Don't you _ever_ knock?" a tall man demanded of him. The guy was so _normal_ that there was nothing really to describe about him…physically, his jeans and shoes were nothing special, but he was wearing an expensive looking button-up long-sleeve shirt, un-tucked.

"Have I ever knocked?" Jordan returned sweetly. "If you're expecting me, why should I bother?"

"And of the times I'm _not_ expecting you?"

Jordan snorted. "That's your problem. What do you want?"

The man, however, had noticed Heero.

"You can't have him," Jordan muttered easily. "He's mine."

"And why is he here?"

"Because I brought him with me."

"Is he packing?"

Jordan pulled his own gun from his waist and studied it lovingly a moment before meeting Jon's eyes again. "Does it really matter?"

"I like to know who around me has weapons," Jon muttered, studying Jordan a moment. "I know you always have _something_ on you, so I don't let it bother me."

"Hm," Jordan looked to Heero, then moved across the room and frisked him before Heero could even react, pulling a gun from one pocket and tucking it back. He ignored the other three guns and the handful of knives that Heero knew he wouldn't miss. "Happy?"

Jon studied Heero a moment longer, then met Jordan's eyes. "How much you want for him?"

Heero felt his entire belief system with the man he'd known as "Duo" starting to collapse.

"As if," Jordan dismissed the question. "You make me sick sometimes, do you know that?"

"I'm just saying…I mean, shit, he looks…" Jon gestured at Heero pointedly with both hands. "I know _so_ many people who would…"

"He wouldn't _submit_ to anyone," Jordan replied, rolling his eyes, "and I wouldn't put him in a position to _test_ that."

"Can you _stop_ acting like I'm not _here_, please?" Heero snapped.

Jon blinked at him.

Jordan laughed, moving into the room and dropping comfortably onto one couch. "What do you want?"

"To apologize," Jon replied promptly, sitting across from Jordan with sincere eyes. "I overreacted. You have to understand that my sister is my _baby_ sister."

Jordan laughed an evil laugh. "She's not much of a baby."

Jon's eyes narrowed.

Jordan tilted his head slightly as he lay out across the couch, gesturing Heero to him with his hand. "I gave something of an object lesson downstairs. You'll have to get Stephan some worker's comp."

"What did you do this time?" Jon demanded in exasperation as Heero sat near Jordan.

"I only knocked him out a little," Jordan replied, rolling his eyes and sitting up slightly so Heero could move in to be a pillow. He had his legs over the arm of the couch. Heero did so thoughtlessly. It wasn't like Jordan was the only person who'd ever done it. It was something of a tradition with the five of them.

"How do you only knock someone out a little?" Jon demanded in aggravation, rising to his feet and half-starting for the doors.

"It's simple. You don't bash their brains in." The answer was thoughtless, and the manner more than stated to Heero that Jordan was frequently in the rooms. Jordan tilted his head very slightly, waiting curiously to see what would be said to that.

"You don't have that chick with you," Jon noted instead.

"She got a bit upset when I started paying attention to Aaron," Jordan shrugged. "She's the touchiest bitch I ever met."

"That happens when they decide they want you."

"Hm," Jordan muttered, considering that as he looked back to Heero, "her loss."

Jon heaved a sigh. "Can we talk, please? In confidence?" he gave Heero a pointed look.

Heero nodded.

"About what?" Jordan muttered, shifting to sit properly and tilt his head across the table at the man.

"I _told_ you!" Jon snapped at him, "I want you on my team. We need a good man behind my lines. This shit is going to explode in our faces."

"I told _you_ that if you gave that fucker money, I would never join you. You gave him money. That's the end of it."

"I wouldn't _need_ you if I hadn't given him money!" Jon muttered petulantly, sitting back in his seat as he pouted at the far wall. "I've got the government breathing down my neck, trying to pin something on me…and all I'm asking is for you to be my _relay_ if they do or my general if they don't."

"I told you no," Jordan replied easily. "I will not be an accessory. I have my own reasons for avoiding government notice."

Jon let out an exasperated breath, looking to Heero. "Aaron?" he demanded, waiting for Heero to nod, then gestured at Jordan. "I offered him a salary that would make Sally Poe weep, to _pay_ for any room or board, health care, or fuckin' bribery. I offered to set him up a retirement fund that would roll out in the end with him able to _buy_ any fuckin' colony of his choice, and he's acting like this! Can you believe that? Would _you_ take that offer? I mean…the bastard could do this job in his sleep."

"He's more the type to do the actual fighting," Heero noted, realizing suddenly that he should probably act like he didn't _know_…Jordan's past.

Jon rolled his eyes. "You're impossible. Okay, let's get blunt," he looked to Jordan a moment, then met Heero's eyes again. "I'll give you anything you _want_ if you get him to agree."

Heero blinked in amazement.

"I don't mean instantly," Jon added in a quieter tone, acting as if Jordan weren't in the room, "but within the next week or two…you should stick around that long…you look interesting. Okay? Can you do that for me?"

"No," Jordan replied levelly.

Heero winked at the guy, focusing on Jordan again. "Don't worry, it's not like I know _how_ to do it. What the hell does he mean, I should stick around that long?"

Jordan flashed him an evil look before focusing on Jon and rising to his feet. "I accept your apology, and apologize as well. Kalli started it, though."

Jon's eyes narrowed.

Jordan studied him a long moment, then indicated that Heero should leave the room. He paused in the door before following his friend down the stairs. "And if you touch my friends, I'll kill you."

"You couldn't kill _any_one, Jor. You talk big, but it's all…"

Jordan pulled his pistol and aimed at a vase the man had bought at a price that was just ridiculous…and pulled the trigger.

"No!" Jon shouted, staring at the small hole in the wall and the shards of clay on the floor. "Fuck! Jordan!"

"I talk like I think and I think like I act," Jordan informed him, meeting his eyes. "Don't _fuck_ with me. Do you understand? You don't want to find out if I would kill you or not."

Jonathan was staring at the thing in disbelief as Heero moved back to the top of the stairs with huge eyes.

"Thanks for the silencer, though," Jordan added with a mischievous smirk, patting the thing. "You have no idea how convenient I find it."

Jon turned to stare at him helplessly. "I didn't think you could really put it on," he muttered.

Jordan snorted, showing the weapon to Heero. "A monkey could put that shit on in his sleep."

"But not well," Heero muttered, staring at the military-grade silencer tagged onto the end of the pistol. "It would probably end up killing them."

"Hm," Jordan muttered, studying the thing and laughing as he started to pull the door shut. "Thank the gods that I've had training in it, huh?" he laughed, meeting Jon's eyes a moment longer before pulling the door shut firmly.


	2. Chai

**Chai**

"Are you trying to get us killed?" Heero demanded of Jordan as they neared the table where the others were waiting tensely. "Do you have _any_ idea why we're here?"

"Not really," Jordan returned shortly, chugging half his bottle of beer. "All I know is that if you guys are here, something is up."

"Zechs was shot and nearly killed. The assassin gave us a name and we worked from there."

Jordan paused, meeting Aaron's eyes. "Is Zechs okay?"

"It wasn't a fatal wound, no," Aaron returned. "What the fuck was that?"

"What the fuck was what?" Jordan demanded in irritation, slamming the end of his beer before turning and starting for the doors.

"Where are you going?" Wufei demanded, giving chase.

"I'm going home," Jordan replied easily, focusing suddenly on the bar where Stephan was sitting with an icepack to his head, leaning against the wall. He smirked, starting for the door again.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Quatre muttered, giving chase.

"Sure, why not?" Jordan replied, shrugging indifferently.

Quatre blinked at him, then turned to the others as Heero brushed past him. Trowa and Wufei scurried to catch up with the blond, taking pains to keep their expressions normal.

"You aren't driving, are you?" Trowa asked warily.

Jordan turned his amethyst eyes onto Trowa, narrowing them slightly. "Drive what?"

"You don't…have a car?" Trowa was startled at the thought.

"What good would it do me? I already have to change pseudonyms. I'd have to have a car in whatever name I choose, and names aren't that hard to link."

"So…"

"We walk," Jordan replied, starting toward the heart of the city.

"Surely you must be joking," Quatre muttered, his eyes sweeping the area in disbelief. "You don't walk down here?"

In the distance, several shots were fired and dogs started barking. A warm wind blew and the smell of exhaust and mild pollution tantalized their senses.

"I walk down here all the time," Jordan muttered, giving them looks before focusing on an alley near the club they'd been in. "Chai?"

The dark haired woman moved from the alley, holding her beer in one hand. "What took you so long?" she demanded petulantly. "Jesus, you think I _like_ hanging out in _this_ area? Who the hell are these?"

"We're having an orgy, baby," Jordan muttered, draping a companionable arm over her shoulders. "You're still on the pill right? I'm out of condoms."

"Duo!" Quatre was aghast.

"My _name_ is _Jordan_!" Jordan snarled in extreme irritation, turning to face the other four. "I left Duo back at the Preventer's base and he's not coming back any time soon. If I have to tell you _again_…"

"Jordan," Chai muttered, grabbing his wrist, her own eyes concerned. "What is with you? You've been acting odd ever since they showed up…and what do they mean, Duo? You have another name?"

He met her eyes in such a way that she sighed in disgust, turning to look them all over and meet Jordan's eyes again. "I haven't been able to afford the pill in the last three months."

Jordan had to laugh at that.

"Yeah, you think it's funny…" she muttered in disgust, turning and starting away.

"Uh, she realizes you're not serious, doesn't she?" Trowa asked.

Chai turned to glare at him. "Can we please go _home_?"

"All right, fine. Christ…" Jordan turned and started to lead the way.

"You really live out here?" Quatre asked, moving closer to Jordan slowly. He knew the man too well to imagine that his outburst meant more than a build up of tension.

"I really do," Jordan agreed, looking over his shoulder at them all. "I always have."

"Well…not really," Wufei muttered, moving to flank Chai, his eyes everywhere. "That colony wasn't this bad."

"It was just as bad for the time it was," Jordan muttered, watching with interest as Heero also moved to flank him and Trowa took up the rear.

"I take it these aren't just random acquaintances," she noted, studying them all.

"You have eyes like he does," Quatre noted suddenly, studying her.

"Mine are darker," she replied instantly, then blinked, looking around. "You can tell? There's shit for lighting out here."

"It's not that dark," he muttered with a frown.

"He's like me, Chai." Jordan muttered in explanation.

"I'm Cody," Quatre said happily, extending a hand. "I've known D…Jordan since he was about fifteen."

She smiled at him, shaking it. She was quickly noticing something about the group that had always been in Jordan's nature. They were constantly scanning the area and they were situated to protect not only herself, but the blond bit of fluff who was obviously very likable. She could tell by his build that he wasn't just fluff, and if Jordan was any kind of model, then he was probably armed to the teeth with a knowledge of how to fight…and fight dirty.

"This is Chai. We've lived together for the last two years," Jordan muttered to them.

"Are you two…" Quatre glanced between them pointedly. "I mean to say…"

Chai sighed. "I wish. Jordan is a terrific asshole about relationships."

"So he's…using you?" Wufei muttered, his tone questioning.

"Not even!" she said in irritation, turning to meet his eyes. "I even walk around half-dressed, and he doesn't even care!"

"You're my friend," Jordan snapped as if he were highly offended. "I don't want to put you on the same level as a fuckin' blow-up doll."

"You don't _notice_!" she squeaked at him.

"Yes I do!" Jordan snapped back. "I just ignore it."

She drew herself up.

"You gonna do that for us?" Trowa asked sweetly. "I swear we'll notice."

Her reply, whatever it would have been, died on her lips. She blinked at Trowa in astonishment for a long moment before starting to giggle.

Jordan rolled his eyes, then started to slow down. After seeing all of their faces, Chai realized that there was possible danger, turning to look…at a group of guys with weapons on them. Stupid weapons…broken pipes for the most part, one had a board, though.

Quatre grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her behind himself.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jordan demanded of them, not consciously aware that he'd placed himself in front of Quatre.

"You have money that we want," the leader replied. "Sorry. Hard times."

Heero scratched one eyebrow, looking to Quatre.

"Duo," Quatre muttered in irritation.

Jordan moved aside without bothering to comment on the name. He hadn't realized that he'd obstructed the other's sight.

"Boards…poles…nothing serious," Quatre noted. "They don't seem to have firearms," he studied them all a moment longer, then studied the buildings around them. "But they do have firearms on the second level."

"What the hell are you doing?" the leader demanded pompously. "Just give us your money…and leave your woman."

"The issue with that, you see," Jordan muttered, "is that she's _my_ woman and I don't really like to share."

"It wasn't exactly a choice, buddy," the man muttered.

"Two, three, and four," Quatre muttered, turning his head slowly to survey the windows, "Seven…and eleven. Previously broken windows. No civilians."

Chai wasn't sure how she should react. On the one hand, the god was loosening his pistol in its holster, eyeing across the street carefully; on the other, there were about seven people in the group facing them. If what she understood from Cody was correct, there were twelve people in all, and five of them had guns.

"But it is a choice," Jordan countered, "because while you lot are too scared to play with guns…I'm not."

Chai stared as he suddenly pulled his pistol from its holster and shot…across the street. She was instantly forced down, but didn't miss the fact that all five of her escorts had guns in their hands—especially at the loud sound the different guns made.

There were only five shots total.

"You see," Jordan muttered easily, "we're not your average easy-pickings."

Chai raised her head to stare around her in dismay. The only gun in sight was that of Jordan. He was facing the people who were carrying the boards and poles.

They seemed to be in shock.

"Don't worry," the god muttered, "we didn't kill them."

"Well, _we_ didn't," the one in the rear noted.

"Jordan?" Cody asked sweetly.

Jordan laughed. "I'm not really sure, actually. I wasn't paying all that much attention." He turned back to the men in front of them. "They're probably bleeding heavily," he noted. "You may want to get them some emergency care."

Almost as one, the group broke and ran toward different doors or alleys.

Jordan laughed his evil laugh. "That was fun," he muttered, bouncing back to drape an arm over Chai's shoulders.

"You're demented," the Chinese one informed him easily. "Can we leave? I don't exactly relish the idea of cops showing up on us."

"Oh fine," Jordan drawled, rolling his eyes. "They won't get here for another ten minutes. The ambulances will, but they have no authority and are allowed to tend the wounded."

"You were a soldier?" Chai demanded of him suddenly, the realization connecting in her mind. She'd always seen it in him, though it had never had a name before.

"I was," he agreed. "I'm not now, but it's like riding a bike…almost. You say yourself that I'm paranoid."

"What…exactly…does she know about you?" the god demanded, his expression guarded.

"He's an asshole," Chai offered immediately.

"That's one thing," the Chinese one muttered, putting up a finger.

"And a slut," Jordan added, meeting her eyes for consensus.

"Two things," the one in the rear agreed, raising two fingers.

"That's not actually funny," Cody muttered, frowning at him.

"She knows what she needs to know about a former street-rat," Jordan decided.

"So, Adonis," Chai muttered, moving to lean against the god, wanting to change the subject, "were you serious about that threesome?"

"_What_?" Quatre spluttered at her in complete shock.

The man laughed evilly, then tilted his head at her. "Adonis?"

"You're a god," she shrugged. "I go with what I'm given."

He smiled at her, offering a hand. "Aaron."

"Chai," she returned happily, flicking her hair slightly.

"Are you coming, or what?" Jordan demanded.

"Excuse me, Jor," Chai said in irritation, "but I have a feeling they'll be staying the night. I don't think it's really too much to ask that I know their _names_."

"We can walk and talk at the same time…that's a simple multitask that even these lab-rats can get down."

"You are so annoying!" she squeaked at him.

"And you are so _feminine_!" Jordan mocked back. He was walking away from them backwards.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," the Chinese one noted, moving up to her side as she started to follow the guy. "Why do you put up with this shit?"

"Because I'll never be able to afford a car, and it's a bad idea for a girl to walk alone on the street."

"So you put up with his bull-shit to have a body-guard?"

"She gives me plenty of bull-shit," Jordan muttered, still walking backwards. "Don't let her mislead you too much."

Chai smiled at him, not able to help but lose her irritation when he smiled back.

The Chinese one looked from Jordan to her a moment, then offered a hand. "Daniel."

She giggled. "Really?"

He gave her a look.

She giggled more, shaking his hand. "Sorry."

He smiled at her.

"I'm Toby," the last one informed her, moving up to fold his arms over her shoulders, studying her eyes with a slightly tilted head. "You are a very attractive woman, might I add?"

"No," Jordan replied promptly, "because you lot won't be using her."

"She's yours," Aaron agreed.

Chai started giggling again.

"When was the last time you got laid?" Jordan demanded of Toby.

"I dunno…last night or this morning?" he asked Cody.

Cody blushed.

"You're shittin' me," Jordan muttered, stopping dead.

"Why not?" Toby asked sweetly. "What's so wrong with the idea of me sleeping with…him?"

"Don't be a jerk, Tro," Cody muttered with a frown. "It was this morning, because you woke me up at four," he looked back to Jordan as he neared him. "He has something of a girlfriend back home."

"Home?" Jordan asked, looking curious.

"We've lived on the base for a while now," Aaron muttered. "We have a block of rooms in the end of one wing…behind a bolted door." He flashed a grin. "It's almost like a house. I'll tell you about it later if you want. Right now, I'd like to avoid anymore misadventures."

There were sirens in the distance, and now that they were listening, the dogs were barking again. There was also the sound of steadily moving traffic and the wind through the trees that grew throughout the cement jungle.

"All right," Jordan muttered, turning to walk normally and dropping back to offer a hand to Chai.

"So…how long are you guys gonna be around?" Chai asked, looking to them.

The instant she asked it, she wished she wouldn't have. Not because it implied an invitation to stay at her and Jordan's apartment, but because the way they all suddenly closed off and Jordan's eyes narrowed.

"You're going to have to tell her _something_," Daniel noted. "This is incredibly rude of us, and the fact that it may put her in danger suggests we tell her the truth."

"She's been very happy not _knowing_ the truth," Jordan noted.

"Has he always talked to people as if the subject weren't there?" Chai appealed to Aaron.

"I think that's a more recent bad habit," the man replied. "He and Jon were doing it about me."

"You met Jon?" Chai stopped to blink at him.

"He came up with me," Jordan explained.

She blinked to the guy, then back to the god, then around to the others and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't want to know. I have a feeling that anything about this you tell me will be considered too much information on my part."

Jordan nodded at her, running a hand down her back before he moved past her to the corner and she slowed down.

"What?" Cody asked, blinking as he looked around the edge.

"This is the battle-field," Chai explained. "Gang rivalries are fought here when they're arranged. If you've got the bad luck to arrive when they're about to start, then you're in danger until you get there," she stepped forward slightly and pointed at a building that was probably one-hundred yards away.

"What is this?" Cody asked, moving tentatively up beside Jordan.

"It was a park, once upon a time," Jordan explained. "The city doesn't have the funding to tear it up nor the sensibility to sell it. I guess that's a good thing, though, because everyone knows where this is."

"Why do you live here?" Daniel asked him quietly.

"Because Chai lives here," Jordan explained without looking at her, "and I can't afford a house in a real city for the both of us."

This brought a very direct scrutiny to her.

"It's clear," Jordan decided, starting to walk into open.

"Let Q look!" Aaron snapped.

Jordan sighed, moving back behind the building and leaning against it as Cody moved forward slowly and looked everything over.

"We really are going to at least have to tell her our names," Daniel noted to Aaron. "I mean…since she's with Duo it's hard to keep up the fiction."

"Stop calling me that," Jordan muttered simply.

"I dunno…it's cute," Chai muttered to him.

His eyes were cold when they met hers.

"It's also a sore subject," Aaron muttered delicately, placing his hands on her shoulders and pushing her toward Cody. He was walking openly away from protection. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-one," she replied, frowning at him. "Why?"

"G.E.D.?"

She blushed, looking away from his eyes.

"Kids?" he pressed.

"No," Jordan's voice was cold.

Chai avoided everyone's eyes.

"I apologize," Aaron informed her sincerely. "It was wrong of me to jump to conclusions."

She frowned at him, shaking her head. "I lost it."

"Oh," he muttered, understanding instantly changing his tone.

She avoided his eyes again.

"Can you stop this now?" Jordan demanded, moving up to her side and glaring over his shoulder at his friend. "I will tell you what you need to know later. Right now we just need to get home."

More sirens were coming close.

The shrill notes of a cell phone ripped through the night air and everyone focused on Aaron as he whipped a small cell-phone from his pocket and raised it to his ear.

"No," Jordan muttered to Chai, "that's not conspicuous at all."

"I'm aware that we left, Une," Aaron said sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. "I think I'd know before you," he listened a moment, focusing on Chai. "No. I can't talk right now, Une…can you just trust me? It's not Breer's masterminding. He just fronted some cash," he sighed. "Can you just _trust_ me for once?"

Chai's eyes wandered the group before she focused on Jordan, noticing that he was staring very intently at his friend's mouth. She couldn't understand what made him so tense, and wondered if she dare ask.

"I can't tell you that. I can't _tell_ you that. I won't tell you that…I won't tell you that…I can't tell you…can you just hang up now?" he demanded. "I'm turning off this fucking phone as soon…" he heaved a huge sigh. "Sorry. Just think about my company. No, would you just _hang_ _up_?"

The others were staring at him.

"I won't _let_ you track me, genius."

That brought a group flinch.

"Yeah, fuck you too," Aaron muttered, closing the phone and meeting Jordan's eyes. "Should I smash it?"

Jordan grinned at him.

Aaron shook his head, doing something so it beeped before tucking it into his pocket. "We really need to get some facts straight before I report," he informed them all, focusing on Chai, "and of course, if we're bringing our little lady into the issue at all."

"We'll be leaving as soon as you leave," Jordan muttered quietly. "I'm not going back. I'm not going to have that harpy knowing where I am. I left for a reason—a different reason than you lot."

"What? Did you fuck her?" Chai hadn't intended to ask him the question in quite that tone, nor really thought about what she was _saying_. The fact that he'd so casually decided they were moving hurt her. He knew that she relied on him completely to survive and that he could make that type of decision at will. He'd never done that before, so the sudden change upset her.

"Why don't you _not_ worry about that?" Jordan asked in a quiet tone.

Everyone was blinking at her, however, as if the thought had never crossed their minds.

Chai found that she _really_ wanted to know who the hell Jordan had been…before he'd _become_ Jordan.


	3. New Grounds

**New Grounds**

"How late are you working tonight?" Chai whispered quietly, leaning against the bathroom door as Jordan brushed his teeth.

"Seven," he replied, spitting into the sink. "I get my check today, too. I want to get you some new clothes, so keep that in mind so we can go shopping."

Heero stared into the bathroom, wondering about his old friend. All five of the former Gundam Pilots had broke and ran at eighteen. It had taken Une until they were all nineteen to find any of them, but Duo had eluded her completely. Heero hadn't seen the other since that time. They'd all looked, no matter where they were. They'd all kept their eyes open for him, but Heero had finally given up. He'd assumed the pilot had either committed suicide or gotten killed. Finding him in the middle of low-class slums had not even crossed Heero's mind.

"I don't need new clothes," Chai muttered, her shoulders slumped. "I'm good. Just save the money."

"We're going to move," Jordan muttered, turning to cup her face, staring into her eyes. "We're getting out of this hell hole. I'm not paying rent this month, we'll take that money and catch a bus out of here."

"Why are we leaving?" she demanded. "If it's so easy, then why didn't we do it a long time ago?"

Jordan leaned in and kissed her. "Because this was the last place they'd look for me."

"So where will we go?"

Jordan's eyes raised and landed on Heero, though the pilot pretended to be asleep. "Don't worry about that yet, we can talk about it later."

Chai pulled her head from his grasp, shaking it. "Why can't you _tell_ me anything?"

"Because there's a fifty-fifty chance that neither of them is really asleep."

Heero grinned slightly, wondering if Wufei was also eavesdropping. Trowa and Quatre had basically been forced into Chai's bed when the girl insisted she would sleep with Duo…Jordan. As soon as the words had crossed her lips, that was the plan. Heero had woken up at some ungodly-early hour to hear the two talking, and wondered what the hell kind of life his old friend was _living_.

Jordan kissed Chai again, lingering a little. "I've got to go to work."

Chai clung to his hand as he started for the door; he ignored her until he reached the door, sliding his feet into dirty work-boots. His jeans were covered in stains and his shirt was torn several times.

"What are you going to do for lunch?" she demanded sharply.

"What I usually do," he returned easily, tying the boots before grabbing a ratty-looking jacket from the back of a chair.

"You need to _eat_," Chai protested.

"We'll go out tonight, all right? Just be ready when I get here…have them take you to the clinic and get you the pills."

"What?" she demanded blankly.

"You said you didn't have birth-control for three months. Get them to take you there, and they'll pay for it. They work for the government, they can afford it."

Heero frowned as Wufei shifted slightly.

"I couldn't ask that of them," she protested, staring at the guy in dismay.

"They'll do it for me," Jordan returned. "Just tell them that I told you to, all right? They owe me at least that."

"That has nothing to do with you," she muttered distantly.

Heero gave up. "Why not the shot?"

Chair froze completely, turning to look at him with huge eyes.

"Good idea," Jordan agreed, looking to Chai again. "You won't even have your period for three months."

"I couldn't," she started, looking between them.

"I've got to go, I'm going to be late," Jordan cut her off, leaning over to kiss her yet again and waving a bit at Heero.

"How the hell do you get to work?" Heero demanded quickly. "_Where_ do you work?"

"I do construction," he explained. "Uptown. I take the bus. I've got to go."

"But you need to eat lunch!" Chai tried again. "You think I don't notice you getting dizzy, but I do."

"What?" Heero demanded evenly, crossing the room to him. "You've been doing hard-labor and not eating?"

"I'm all sorts of talented," Jordan snapped. "We have to have that money for other things."

"How can you _live_ like this?" Heero demanded, irritation and consternation rising inside of him. "How can you walk so calmly down the street, and when someone mugs you, just…just _laugh_!"

"Because there's not a lot else _to_ do," Jordan snapped. "I don't have the money for anywhere else…not yet."

"But you _have_ to _eat_!" Chai's voice rose to her squeak again.

"Take this money," Heero snapped, digging a twenty from his wallet. "Eat with it. Buy something for tomorrow's lunch as well."

Jordan stared at the bill without looking to the other two, weighing his options. On the one hand, the money was free to him and he could use it as he'd been told, or pocket it and add it to his bank account with his own check. He'd need every dollar he could get when he and Chai left. They'd only be able to carry what they could put into a bag, and he had no clue yet where they would go.

Heero raised the bill to his lips, reaching forward to grab Jordan's wrist. "And just to piss you off," he pulled out his key ring and flipped it around to a small instrument…and used it to poke Jordan's finger.

"Ouch!" Jordan protested instantly, yanking his hand away and staring at the drop of blood on his finger before looking to Heero in utter amazement.

Heero smirked, showing him the digital read-out. "Tests your blood sugar."

Jordan realized in an instant that no matter what he did, he'd have to eat lunch. Whether or not he took the money, if he showed up with less blood-sugar than Heero's readout said…they'd probably kick his ass.

Chai giggled. "That's cool."

Snatching the bill from Heero's hand, Jordan glared at his…roommate before turning and storming out the door.

"You could at least say thank you!" Chai protested after him.

Heero ducked his head out the door, watching the guy walk a bit, then grinned and looked back to the girl. "So where is the clinic, when does it open, and what will you let me buy for you?"

She stared at him.

"You're important to Jordan," Heero explained with a shrug. "He's doing as right by you as he can manage, and I want to do right by him."

"I don't know what to say," she muttered, studying his eyes.

"Say the name of one store you'd love to shop in."

She smirked. "Streak Red."

The choice amused Heero. The store was high-end pop-culture…a large portion of his own wardrobe had been bought at the place. "I like that store…are you going to put a limit on how much money we can spend on you?"

"What?" Chai asked blankly, not understanding that he meant he would take her there. She'd thought it was more than he would want to spend.

"As soon as I find out her size," Wufei muttered, rolling over to look at them, "I don't care what she says. Jordan will make her accept what we buy—the jackass."

Heero chuckled, studying the girl again. "Why don't you go back to sleep? I know that Streak Red doesn't open until ten, and don't imagine that clinic will open before nine." He returned to the couch as the girl stared at him. "Plus, I want to sleep in a little."

Chai smiled slightly, then moved to the bathroom and flicked the light off, disappearing into Jordan's room and closing the door behind herself.

"I think we're missing several somethings from the puzzle," Heero noted quietly, lying back down.

"He's always been an odd one," Wufei noted. "Why the hell was he kissing on her if he refuses to fuck her?"

"He said he was out of condoms," Heero suggested.

"They've lived together for two years, though. If they'd had sex at all in that time, the lack of condom would only put him off for a short while. Besides, he's been fucking around. I don't get him at all."

"Like I said, we're missing something," Heero eyed the bedroom door a moment. "I think," he said finally, "that something happened to her…other than miscarrying."

"She's only twenty-one," Wufei agreed quietly. "That's so terrible for her."

"Just imagine the boat they'd be in now if she had the kid, and maybe you'll get why god did her a miss-favor."

"He could get a better job than construction," Wufei argued on a different vein. "Why is he here living like this?"

"She's here," Heero said quietly, looking back to his partner.

"Not everything he said last night was true," the twenty-three year-old argued. "It's been five years. God only _knows_ what he's been doing."

"You know," Heero muttered, snuggling into his blanket, "one valid point for him; I'd never have thought to look for him here."

"I know…he has money in his account."

"If he takes any of that money, Une will be all over him again. She's got it all marked, you know."

"We're going to have to make her give up. He's not coming back."

"But he should be with us," Heero argued, closing his eyes. "He needs to be near us. We've needed him a lot these last few years."

"I think he likes it here, though," Wufei muttered. "He seems to have a lot of perks. If their money-issue is so tense, why was he drinking at the bar last night? You know he's paying for her, too."

"We'll have to pump her for information, then. I'm paying his rent, whether or not I tell him."

"I was going to."

"He doesn't want charity."

"Who are you to talk?"

"I'm doing it to piss him off."

"Right. Set your watch, I don't want to have to keep time in my sleep."

"Fine."

- -

Jordan moved slowly back into his apartment, noticing the Streak Red bags that littered the couch and smiling. If the amount of bags suggested _any_thing, it was that his friends had bought Chai the entire feminine wardrobe from the store.

He tossed his jacket onto the back of the couch and kicked off his work-boots, wondering why Heero hadn't pounced him yet with the tester. He'd found the second half of his day immensely easier, and was trying to ignore the fact that it was because he'd eaten.

"I'm home!" he called, looking around the silent apartment in confusion.

"_Sh_," Chai appeared around the corner of the kitchen, placing her finger to her lips as she smiled at him. She bounced across the room and hugged him briefly. "They all fell asleep a while ago. Aaron is in the kitchen, he was helping me make supper."

"Supper? You went food shopping?"

Chai giggled, helping him pull his shirt off. "We went everywhere. First to the clinic. They wouldn't let me tell them no. Daniel was picking things out that he thought would look cute on me and practically _shoving_ me into the changing rooms…oh, and I made them get you some new jeans."

Jordan smiled, following her around the chair as she started digging into bags. It didn't take her too long to find what she was looking for. It amused him that the waistband of the first pair was exactly the size he would have chosen. They were a little longer than he'd have picked, but at the same time, it was Streak Red. Jordan never worried much about fashion, but had a feeling that they did.

"Go shower," she added, pushing at him. "I want to show you everything I've got."

"I have to go back to the bar tonight," Heero added, moving around into the living room as Jordan stopped in front of the bathroom. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"Depends on what you're going to ask of me," Jordan returned, studying the guy. "I usually go see Jon all the time, since he apologized, getting up to talk to him again won't matter. If you're going to start bringing the government down here, though, I'll have to resist."

Heero studied him a long moment, then looked to Chai as he extended his hand for Jordan's wrist. "We're going to have to go tonight."

"You coming back?" Jordan demanded, hissing slightly as the man poked his finger with the digital readout-device. "What's your op?"

Aaron shrugged as he read the numbers. "We needed evidence for or against Breer. Two of us have to hear him say it, preferably all four of us." He pushed a button and the device let out a small beep. Heero studied Jordan's eyes as he tucked the thing back into his pocket. "If you would come back to the fold, your word would work and we could free him of those charges. I can even work it around so he only has to serve community service."

"But since I'm not going back to the fold," Jordan noted a bit sarcastically, "you can't cut him any deals, and need me to get you back up there—and I'd imagine you want to hear the guy who he gave the cash to."

Heero nodded.

"You know, for all that I've commented that I don't want to know what's going on, you just told me it all." Chai glowered at Jordan.

He turned his amethyst eyes down to hers, raising one eyebrow. "What was the money used for? How much money? What do I know of it? How likely is it that any government officials will ever find me again?"

"Hahaha," Heero grumped.

"I'll be out in a bit," Jordan added, moving into the bathroom and closing the door.

"Must be the cash to Terry," Chai noted, looking back to Heero. "Jor was all pissed about it when he found out that Jon did it."

"Terry who?" Heero refrained from displaying an ounce of emotion.

"Terry Shifton, some guy Jon picked up a year ago," Chai shrugged, starting for the kitchen again. The information meant nothing to her.

Heero felt his entire world spin as all the ramifications of her simple statement sank in. He stared at the bathroom door blankly as Quatre appeared in the door to Jordan's room.

Terry Shifton was a high-ranking official in the E.C., or Earthsphere Council. He had been named tenth in the line of command two years before—not that anyone outside the officer's club of Preventer's knew it. He was currently fifth, after the death of three members and disappearance of two.

Quatre blinked, not sure what to think of his friend's vacant stare. "What's up?"

"She says it's Shifton."

Quatre froze. "How would she know?"

"Because Duo's in tight with Breer, and it was Breer who paid for the attack…on Zechs."

Quatre caught his breath, looking to the bathroom door.

"Yeah," Heero agreed. "I think shit just hit the fan."

"We found Duo," Quatre returned, "we should have known when he took you right up to Breer. Do you think he's involved?"

"I hope not," Heero returned, meeting Quatre's eyes. "I really hope not."

- -

"You're all tense," Jordan muttered, elbowing Heero lightly with a smirk as he took another pull from his beer. "Relax a little, we're here to enjoy ourselves."

"When are we seeing Breer?" Heero demanded, staring at his own bottle. He'd found that he couldn't make himself drink it. It was frustrating.

"When you can look me in the eyes again," Jordan said easily, eyeing the man. "Until then, there's no way I'd take you with me up there again. You have to understand my reputation here, Aaron. My friends aren't going to be uncomfortable around me. They aren't going to be having odd-ass issues that came out of nowhere."

"I'm just kinda nervous," Heero admitted, feeling bad that he was being so obvious. "This is being too easy."

"You have your mic, right?"

Heero blinked at him in amazement.

"I'm not _stupid_, Aaron. The toys have changed, but the game is the same. Chances are that one of the guys is listening to us back at the apartment. I don't care. I'm just your tie. I'm getting you where you need to go to get my buddy off the hook. And for the record," Jordan added, meeting Heero's eyes, "Jonathan Breer is a semi-upstanding citizen and has my utmost respect."

"No one knows who _Jordan_ is," Heero snapped.

"My my my, but you're being touchy," Jordan returned, elbowing Heero slightly.

"Don't," Heero snapped, moving away a bit.

Jordan sat back slightly, eyeing the guy. He considered his options a long moment as Aaron avoided his eyes, then rose slowly to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Heero demanded, trying to catch Jordan's pocket.

"I'm going to talk to Jon," Jordan replied easily, raising an eyebrow at Heero. "I don't know _what_ your problem is, but shockingly, I have things to do."

Heero watched the guy walk to the door they'd moved through the night before, then disappear behind it.

Stephan was smirking slightly when he looked across the room, giving Heero a pointedly challenging look.

"He just left me here," Heero breathed, sitting back in his seat and staring at his bottle. "Oh my _god_, he just _left_ me here…"

"He's not…Heero," Quatre's voice carried quietly over the ear-piece hidden in Heero's ear. "He wouldn't turn you into Breer, would he?"

"I don't think so," Heero muttered, taking a pull from his glass. "I hope not."

"Hope floats no one's boat," Trowa's tone was pointed.

"What do I do? Shit, I don't know how people down here act."

"See," Wufei muttered helpfully, "this is Duo's shtick. He'd be the one to go on this mission. He'd be able to work alone, and no one would question _him_."

"You still not over that?" Quatre demanded. "You were so anally challenged at that point…ow! Don't hit me!"

Heero smirked, swirling his beer in the bottle, glancing toward the door again. Stephan looked bored as he sat against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "I'm not being watched anymore."

"So wait for him," Tro announced.

"Obviously."

"You're the one begging help."

"What is he _doing_ in there?" Wufei snapped. "What the hell would he do?"

"You know, Breer asked how much he wanted for me?" Heero leaned forward in his seat, propping his head against his hand and his elbow on the table. He reached across the thing and grabbed a sheet of paper and a small pencil for whatever gambling game the bar catered to. "Jordan's reply didn't exactly…encourage me."

"You just called him Jordan," Wufei noted.

"That _would_ be his name," Heero muttered mildly, taking another drink of his beer. "I don't care what you lot think. He doesn't want to be Duo anymore. He's not."

"And you call _me_ a romantic," Quatre muttered.

"Its called respect," Heero snapped, "and understanding. I've asked you guys to call me Chance and you don't seem to _get_ why I want my name changed. Jor does. Jordan understands completely."

"We don't have issues calling you Chance because we don't know _why_ you don't want to be Heero," Trowa muttered. "Our issues with calling you Chance is that it's _chance_. You're not a chance. You're a certainty, get it?"

"Haha," Heero muttered.

"What's going on now?" Quatre asked through a heaved sigh.

Heero raised his eyes to look around the room, "Nothing."

"Sounds fun."

"You have no idea."

"At least you're not fighting."

"I'd rather be."

Trowa replied to the statement with a snort, and silence moved across the headset again. Heero stared across the room, actually feeling uncomfortable. He didn't know if anyone was watching him or not, but the idea was bothering him.

By the time Jordan did finally reappear, many of the bar's patrons had disappeared. Stephan had also disappeared to be replaced with an evil looking Asian man that Jordan nodded at with a smile on his way past. The man smiled back slightly, nodding a greeting as Jordan turned to focus on Heero.

"Took you long enough," Heero muttered.

"Sorry," Jordan returned, grabbing the extra beer the waitress had set on the table for Heero. "Got caught up. Ready?"

"I thought we…"

"I _told_ you," Jordan cut him off sharply, "I got caught up. Do you want to eat or not?"

Heero sighed, then realized that the Asian man was watching. He nodded finally, sliding out of the booth and following Jordan to the door.

"Sometimes I swear I'll hurt someone," Jor muttered, turning right instead of left as they stepped outside and leading Heero up the sidewalk.

"What's going on?" Heero demanded, moving to walk next to Jordan again.

"Nothing is," Jor snapped, narrowing his eyes at Heero. "It's just been a _really_ long day, and I'd _like_ to get this errand ran before I hit the house and crash."

"What errand?"

"That's none of your damn business," the male returned.

"Heero?" Quatre asked. "Be really careful right now…we don't know him anymore."

"I don't know," Trowa muttered. "It's the same ol'Duo to me."

"What do _you_ think he's doing?" Quatre demanded.

"Drug run, I'd imagine," Trowa replied mildly. "Don't get me wrong, I can tell _Jordan_ isn't on the drugs, but that doesn't mean he's not a ferry-man."

"You're just all _full_ of chipper cheer, aren't you?" Heero muttered darkly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I try," Trowa admitted.

"I just _worked_ all day," Jordan snapped in aggravation. "I didn't _want_ to hit the bar tonight, you know. I wanted to take Chai to supper. Instead I'm stuck running around with _you_ when _you_ are acting like…I don't even _know_ what you're acting like. Can you just shut-up and keep pace? This won't take more than five minutes if you walk _with_ me."

Heero stared at Jordan in amazement. He hadn't actually realized how tired his old friend was, and the amount of annoyance attached to taking his girl to supper had somehow slipped past all of them. "Sorry," he muttered.

Jordan rolled his eyes and sighed, glancing at Heero a moment. "Just…come on."


	4. Friends

**Friends**

"No, Ma'am," Heero muttered as he watched Une pacing. "We were unable to get direct confirmation, but what intelligence I did receive indicated Terry Shifton."

The woman turned to look at him, wide-eyed.

He nodded.

"Can you verify?"

"I was the only one who heard it, Ma'am. From a secondary source."

She frowned. "These are serious allegations. If we don't have…"

"I'm aware, Ma'am," the soldier cut her off. "The contact we stayed with had a direct link to Breer. It was his girl who said the words to me when everyone else was sleeping."

"Who were you staying with?"

Heero glanced to the far wall of the office. In every base, there was a wall where the flag of the country was displayed. The flag of the United States shone in the direct middle and Heero grinned. "I plead the fifth."

"You have to be a private citizen," she snapped, "for the laws to apply. You're above citizenship; an entirely different set of laws apply to you."

Heero studied her with high amusement a long moment, then shrugged slightly. "Actually, Ma'am, I'm protecting the rights of a private citizen."

"Hm," she considered the information. "Very well. You do have that. We _will_ have words over our conversation on the mobile, though."

"While I'm touched that you're so concerned about my safety," Heero murmured with a slight grin, "it has to be safety, you see, or else it'd be considered obsession…and I'd have to take steps. Anyway, as touched as I am, when I'm out on assignment—undercover, you are _not_ to call me." She drew herself up and Heero made a gesture at her to wait. "What would you have done if I'd been _with_ Breer, Ma'am? In that part of the city, _no_ one has cell phones…except the drug dealers. As it was, the person we met up with is an old friend. He was able to get me _in_ to _see_ Breer within twenty minutes of arrival. Breer _knows_ that the government is trying to get him. Since I was with who I was with, though, he didn't hesitate to accept me. He spoke openly about giving money to…"

"Doesn't that seem a little…too obvious?" she was starting for her phone.

"I said I was with an old friend. Breer wanted to make a deal with him. I gave him my word that he had my confidence, but yeah. He and my friend…we can call him Rico."

"Rico?" Une asked blankly.

"Suave," Heero explained with a laugh. "Anyway, Breer is friends with Rico and wanted his help. Rico reminded him that he'd said he wouldn't help if he fronted the cash. My assumption is that it's the cash used to pay the assassin. I wasn't able to confirm the suspicion."

She frowned more. "So what evidence do you have that it was Shifton?"

"Rico's girl commented that Rico had been pissed at Jon, Breer," he added, "because he'd fronted money to 'Terry'. She also said that Jon had picked Terry up a year ago. On our way back, I did some research. About a year ago, Shifton took a vacation to Remington. That's twenty minutes away from Angels. I asked Winner, Barton, and Chang to independently verify my findings."

The woman considered the information a long while in silence before nodding and making some notes on a notepad on her desk. "Send Winner in."

"Yes, Ma'am," Heero started for the door.

"And, Heero?" Une glanced up as he paused, "you can only tell him the name of your friend."

"That's all I _need_ to tell him, Ma'am," Heero agreed, then left the room.

- -

Jordan stepped into Jon's flat somewhat uncertainly. The man was on the phone and paused in his talking as he looked the tired laborer over.

Jor _never_ showed up without a shower, announced or otherwise, and his bearing wasn't quite right. "Listen, Krane, I'm gonna have to let you go. Something's come up. I'll call you back later…all right. Bye." He hit the button and looked the other male over levelly.

"I need cash," Jordan explained unceremoniously, closing the door behind himself. "I need it fast."

"I'm sorry," Jon muttered, resting his hand on the empty pedestal where his vase had stood before Jordan had shattered it to thousands of shards. "As far as I'm concerned, you owe me," he shrugged as if to indicate regret.

"Don't be an ass," Jordan snapped, moving across the room.

"You're really dirty, Jor. Please don't sit down."

"I'm leaving," Jordan informed him, ignoring the jibe. "I'm not coming back, either."

Jon stared at him.

"I was military," Jordan added. "I busted. I have reason to believe they've scented me and I have better things to do than sit through a court-martial."

"Military?"

"I told you I wasn't going to let the government find me."

"You really _couldn't_ have been my relay then," the idea seemed to startle the kingpin. He frowned. "I'd love to help you, but I have no jobs available. I gave you cash last night…what happened to that?"

Jordan sighed heavily and dropped onto the couch, covering his face with his hands. He was getting a headache…if only Une hadn't marked his account…

"Where are you going?" the man added uncertainly, moving to sit as well.

"Away," Jordan returned truthfully. "I'm buying two tickets, and taking the bus as far away as it will take me…we need an apartment, though. That means down payment…I don't have that kind of money, Jon," he looked up at the man. "I barely make ends meet as it is…"

"Why come to me?"

"Because you know I'm good for it," Jordan sighed. "Or you could understand my situation. If I get thrown in prison, my girl is left on the streets with no money of her own and no way to get it. I'm not letting her sell her body just to _live_."

"You worry about her too much," Jonathon protested. "She took care of herself before you showed up…she can do it if you go away."

Jordan raised his eyes to glare at the man.

"What's with you and that bitch anyway?" he snapped. "Why are you so worried about her when you go and sleep with any woman who'll spread her legs?"

"That's my business, isn't it?"

"If I'm giving you cash," Jon retorted, "I think I have the right to know. I'm saving her ass just as much as yours."

"More hers than mine," the former soldier agreed. He studied the man a long moment in silence. "I love her."

"So why fuck around on her?" the kingpin was offended.

Laughing evilly, Jor studied the man a long moment in silence. "I'm not going to answer that question. In light of the present situation I'd rather not offend you more."

"_That_ has to be the most _charming_ trait you possess, do you know that, Jordan?"

The man laughed again.

"Besides, if you're just abandoning me to the feds…"

"You know what you do? You admit that you were manipulated into giving the money. You can even claim blackmail. If you can get the information to the right people, you can get yourself off the chopping-block."

Jon stared at him a long moment in silence, then narrowed his eyes. "Who would the right people be?"

Jordan shrugged slightly. "I'm not entirely sure anymore."

"Where's Aaron?"

"He doesn't live around here. He just came to visit for a day or so."

"You seemed startled to see him," he admired the effect the words had on his friend. "I was watching when you approached him," he explained, pointing at a window that looked over the club. You couldn't see in it from the outside. "What did he say that pissed your girl off?"

"He made an offer for a threesome that she didn't appreciate," Jordan shrugged. He rose to his feet and started for the door. "Have a good life."

"You're just leaving?" Jon snapped, rising to give chase. "How can you just leave like this?"

Jordan turned and stepped so they were eye to eye. "I hate being spied on, Jon. I'm not some common criminal, and I thought I had your trust."

"I was looking to see your _mood_," Jon grated the words from between clenched teeth. "I wanted to apologize about the way I reacted to my sister's bullshit."

"Regardless, I have to leave," Jor murmured. "I have to get out of here sooner than later, and if you can't get me any cash…"

"If you can wait a day, I need a shipment picked up from the docks," Jon snapped, pressing his hand against he door before Jordan could open it. "A large quantity of vrit I need delivered to a warehouse. You'll just need a gun or two. I can supply you with more."

"I have plenty of my own," Jordan returned, considering the information. "You know how I feel about vrit."

"It's not as bad as kaseen or meth, you have to give me that."

"Not much better," Jordan met his eyes. "It's against my religion and you know it."

Jonathon snorted, giving the guy a level look. "A quick four Gs. I don't imagine any hitches."

"Four grand?" Jordan demanded, blinking at him.

"It's padded to help you out," Jon agreed, narrowing his eyes. "If that's too long then we're probably both fucked." He studied the braided male with interested eyes for a long moment before smirking slightly. "Besides, you don't have a religion."


	5. Blades and Binds

**Blades and Binds**

Heero grinned Terry Shifton as the man entered the small lunchroom. He sliced another piece of his apple and took a bite of it as the slightly perturbed looking official moved to pour himself some coffee. The sight wouldn't have been disturbing if the particular knife Heero was holding wasn't an old fashioned hunting knife with a serrated edge and a cruel looking hook—the metal even looked slightly stained by blood.

Shifton gave the soldier a curious look, then indicated the weapon as he sipped at his cup. "That's a serious blade you've got there."

"Yes sir," Heero agreed, slicing off another bit. "Sharp, too."

"Hunting, isn't it? Odd for a soldier to have, in my opinion." The man took another drink, trying to decide why a soldier would be in the room.

"Oh, I don't use it anymore," Heero returned. "I carry it because it was a gift from a dear friend many years ago."

"Anymore?"

Heero grinned impishly at him. "I'm a soldier, sir. I do what I have to do."

"Why are you here, soldier?"

"Guard duty," Heero shrugged. "Marquise is ill at ease with so many people."

"Where is he?" the man's eyes suddenly turned interested.

The ex pilot studied him seriously a long moment, then gestured with his head toward the bathroom. "Busy."

"Ah," Shifton's expression turned considerate. "If I ordered you to do something for me, you'd have to do it, right?"

"No sir," Heero replied. "I'm to stick like glue to the side of Marquise—he doesn't need me to shake it for him, though, so I'm just sittin' pretty."

"But we're above you," Shifton protested.

"Only when I let you," Heero said quietly, hesitating with his knife in focus near the apple. "I might add that my rank is nothing to ignore. I call you sir from polite expectance. If I ordered _you_ around, you'd have to obey _me_."

The man narrowed his eyes.

The bathroom door opened and Zechs moved slowly from the room, leaning heavily against his walking-staff.

"Mr. Marquise!" Shifton exclaimed in mock surprise. "I'm so happy to see you on your feet again!"

"It hurts," Zechs returned tiredly, moving to sit next to Heero—the soldier was sitting on a counter with his feet in a chair. "What do we have left to do today, Yuy?"

Shifton froze.

"We need to meet with the Persian ambassador and that group of frops, then a luncheon with Javier Bard." Heero considered the information a moment. "After that we'll head to the hospital again, and then you can vegetate at home."

Zechs sighed heavily.

"It's not as bad as it seems right now," the soldier reassured him genuinely. "Just let the pain meds sink in and you'll be all right again."

"I'm tired, Heero," Zechs returned earnestly. "I can do the luncheon, but the Persians…"

"Want me to make your excuses, then?"

Zechs nodded slowly.

Heero nodded and stood, moving from the room. He gestured down the hall at Wufei, then turned and started for the offices of the various ambassadors.

"You're lucky to be alive," Shifton noted to the man third in the line of power. He sipped more at his cup as he studied the wan looking official. "How did you survive?"

Zechs shrugged, unaware of the information Heero had gleaned from Chai. "The man who attempted to kill me was interrupted mid-shot."

"Oh? That's lucky," Shifton moved closer to him. "How?"

"I was closer," Wufei replied evenly as he moved into the room to take Heero's place. He smiled viciously at the man, who hesitated. "The poor assassin was gibbering when I shoved the muzzle of my weapon between his lips."

"Chang, please," Zechs muttered. "I wouldn't care if you'd stopped him from _shooting_ me, but since you didn't…"

"I wasn't _that_ close," Wufei protested. "You'd think you'd be more grateful that I didn't let him _kill_ you."

Zechs gave him a long-suffering look.

Wufei grinned a bit, moving to sit in Heero's chair. "So what's going on?"

"Yuy is making my excuses to the Persian ambassador and we're going to head to the hospital early. I want to have lunch with Bard and head home for the night."

"You're the one who insisted you could work," Wufei noted, raising an eyebrow. "If you cancel too many of these appointments, they'll put you back in the hospital and make you stay there until you go insane."

The white-blond male gave the Chinese male a look that suggested eminent pain.

The dark haired soldier moved prudently out of arm's reach before looking to Shifton.

"I hope you feel better soon, Mr. Marquise," Shifton muttered, turning for the door. "I have my own work to do…maybe I'll come visit you after lunch."

"That would be wonderful," Zechs agreed tiredly—only slightly sarcastic.

Shifton disappeared from the room.

- -

Jordan pulled the duffel bag over his shoulder, having verified the full volume of vrit Jon had informed him should be present. He passed the man the money with the gun still openly in his hand, then stepped back to wait for the rest of the ritual.

The man counted the money, then nodded. He turned his back to Jor, digging out several more bags of the drug. It was a sign of trust, and Jordan was startled by it. He accepted the remaining bags and tucked them into his duffel, then took a few steps backwards. He decided that the gesture of trust should be returned, and turned his back on the man as he walked wordlessly back down the alley. He could hear muttering over his head, but he didn't acknowledge it.

Four grand for gathering a duffel full of a highly addicting and illegal substance. Four grand for delivering it to a warehouse…there had to be more danger involved. Even trying to help Jordan out, there was no call for _that_ much of pad.

When someone followed him, he realized why the gesture of trust had been made, and why Jon had _really_ tripled the fee.

Jordan had been desperate for somewhere to hide when he'd left the military compound. He'd wandered aimlessly before finding the dives he'd later call home. Chai had initially just been a temporary bed interest before he'd realized she was pregnant and left her alone. A week later, he'd found her unconscious several blocks from a bar—and she'd been bleeding. He'd saved her life, and realized that she was ill equipped to take care of herself. She'd fallen hard into depression after losing the child, for all that it had really saved her life, and she was only just recovered from that. She was still obviously guilty about the money Jordan had put up for her operations and care, but at least she'd gotten to a place where she wasn't subservient…

The ex soldier had no intentions of leaving her to her own devices again. Her family _thrived_ in the conditions of the dives, but she herself had been wilting. They hadn't wanted anything to do with her, and that had broken her spirit.

If he died, she'd be forced back to their home, or worse, into a brothel. Maybe the brothel would be the better choice.

Of course, with all the new clothing she had, she might be able to sell it off and get herself out of the area, but she probably wouldn't have thought of that on her own. She didn't realize how Streak Red clothes were prized, she just knew the fashion of the upper class was drawn from the store…and craved by the lower class.

Maybe she'd sell some of it off…

No. No. Jordan shook his head to himself as he turned down another alley and jumped up a fire escape ladder. He wouldn't ask her to part with the first true gifts she'd ever been given. There were no strings attached to those cloths, no promise of sex or want of drugs…nothing was tagged to those outfits. They were the good will of good people, and Jor refused to let himself consider talking her into selling them.

If he lived through this delivery, he'd have four grand.

He suddenly felt much less guilty for stealing two bags while the people were distracted.

"Where the _fuck_ is he going?" someone hissed from below.

"Just follow him," a woman snapped. "He took two more bags when dumb-ass wasn't looking. We just need to take him out and we'll be fine."

"What if this is the warehouse?"

"Breer's not going to put his place of violence near possible civilian casualties."

Civilian casualties? Was this perhaps another soldier? Was that the real reason Jon had put him on the job? If Jon had known the exchange was a set-up, why hadn't he mentioned it?

The answer to that, however, was an obvious one. Jordan himself expected set-ups no matter what was happening, and had averted several financial disasters for the man he considered a friend—if only fair-weather.

So…that meant it was time to do a bit of constructive life-saving, didn't it?

Jordan pulled his two guns and faced the escape as he heard movement on it—he had better things to do.

- -

The female was crying.

Heero frowned at his phone as he tried to figure out who it was…there was another woman's voice in the background a pause, then the crying woman faded off slightly.

"Excuse me, is this Aaron?" the woman asked.

"Yes…who may I ask is calling?" Heero tapped his pencil on the pad of paper in front of him.

"My name is Becky," the woman returned. "I'm a nurse at St. Angel's hospital in Remington. I'm afraid Jordan has been shot and wounded."

Heero's heart stopped. "Oh my god…is it fatal?"

"No, it's not fatal," the woman reassured him quickly. "Actually, it's a leg wound. He was in Angels…low quarters, if you take my meaning. I haven't heard what happened, but it seems that he got mugged."

The soldier was staring in semi-horror at Wufei, who was giving him a confused look.

"We…can't operate on him, though, sir. He has no insurance and we have no funds. If the operation is put off too much longer, we may have to amputate his lower leg."

"So you need me to pay?" Heero asked, amused that anyone would have thought of him for that. Actually, it spoke very bluntly of D…Jordan's thought processing, even the fact that his cell number was known.

It actually made him feel a bit better about the entire ordeal.

"Yes…I take it you're good friends with Jordan?"

"We were best friends as children," Heero noted in amusement, sitting back, relieved. "I'll be to the hospital in about an hour. Do the operation, you have my word that it'll be paid."

"We can't do that, sir…not without some sort of verification of fees."

"My name is Heero Yuy," Heero returned evenly. "The number for my card is Sphere, ten-nine-five-four-nine. You get that?"

The woman was obviously amazed.

"Ma'am, my friend's leg is needed, the operation needs to be done."

"What _happened_?" Wufei hissed at him.

"Right away, sir," she breathed—Heero could hear typing.

"Can you give me anymore details?"

"I'm sorry," she returned. "We were only able to get the information we gave you. I'm sure Jordan will explain it when you arrive here."

"All right," Heero muttered. "Thank you." The conversation concluded slowly, and Heero finally shut his phone, focusing on Wufei in mild disbelief. "He got shot."

"_What_?" Wufei demanded, disbelieving.

"Jordan was doing something in the slums and got mugged," Heero retorted in amusement. "He has no insurance, so they couldn't operate—they'd almost had to amputate his leg."

"Dear god," Wufei hissed.

"So yeah, get Quatre and Tro down here…or someone. I'm heading to Remington."

"He lives in Angels," Wufei protested.

Heero snorted. "He's in Remington, though, so go figure. Are you coming?"

"I'll set up the replacements," Wufei noted, indicating Zechs' house. "You go ahead."


	6. Temptation and Pain

**Temptation and Pain**

Heero moved into the room designated to his old friend, and studied him over with slightly raised eyebrows. He'd gotten the impression from the nurse that the injury had been fairly bad, but Jordan was sitting at the edge of the bed as Chai slept curled against his back on the mattress behind him.

"Aaron!" Jordan exclaimed, sitting up slightly before offering a wan smile. "Do I get the lecture now?"

"What happened to possible amputation?" Heero retorted, closing the door behind himself as he raised his eyebrows.

"What?" Jor returned blankly. "Who said anything about amputation?"

"Becky," Heero noted, moving closer to his old friend. "The guys will be here soonhow you feelin'?"

"Tired, sore, drugged," Jordan shrugged. "The usual with less med tolerance."

"What happened?"

"I got mugged," Jordan shrugged again.

"So you're in Remington? Twenty minutes away from Angels?"

"That was a personal choice, Aaron," Jordan returned in a slightly pained tone. "The hospitals back home are overrun with this kind of thing."

"There's more to it than that, isn't there?" Heero demanded, moving to stand directly in front of the braided male. Something about the way the former pilot was holding himself suggested some sort of cover-up.

"Self-defense?" Jordan offered, smiling wanly. "Not here, He-man."

"He-man," Heero noted, looking toward the ceiling. "I never thought I'd hear that again."

"You're the one who didn't look for me," Jordan retorted as if the comment offended him.

"Wow," the soldier shook his head. "You're volatile."

"No, I'm testy," the ex-soldier grumped.

"Jor?" Chai muttered, opening her eyes to blink at the male, then sat up as she focused on Heero. A smile flashed across her face before she threw herself at the man and clung to him in a tight embrace.

"Hi, pussycat," he muttered, ruffling her hair. "You okay? That was you who called right?"

She giggled embarrassedly. "SorryI was a bit upset."

"I noticed that, believe it or not," he smiled at her, "but I understand."

"Mr. Yuy?" the nurse muttered as she moved into the room, her expression expectant.

"Yes?" Heero returned, moving to face her properly as Chai frowned at him in confusion.

"I'm Becky," the woman noted, extending one hand. "We talked on the phone…I need your signature here," she passed him a clipboard.

"What would you do if I refused to sign it?" he muttered in amusement, taking the thing from her and accepting the pen. He signed it, passing it back to her. "You didn't have to over exaggerate the injury, ma'am."

"I apologize," she ducked her head slightly. "We may not be as bad off as Angels, but we aren't much higher. Is…everything in order here? Is there anything I can do?"

"Let me out," Jordan suggested, raising an eyebrow. "I know wound care and I'm not going into any form of shock."

"Heero?" Wufei muttered, moving into the room a moment later with the other two pilots on his heels. He looked from Jordan to Heero, then blinked at the nurse.

"Heero Yuy?" Chai asked, her voice quiet.

"Hm?" the Japanese male asked, focusing on her curiously.

She stared.

"You're a major candidate for amputee," Trowa noted, moving around the others toward the hospitalized man and pulling a knife. "I'll even operate myself."

Jordan laughed, shoving the man off and darting to the opposite side of the bed. "It wasn't _my_ fault! I had no idea anyone was saying that! Crap, it didn't even hit tendon…just muscle," he made a rueful face.

"So that bill isn't too large, is it?" Wufei muttered to the woman, indicating the clipboard.

"Not very, no," she agreed. "In situations like these, however, we give the worst possible scenario."

"Like these?" Quatre asked, blinking at her.

"Po'folk issues," Jordan supplied. "I ain't got no cash, and I ain't got no insurance."

"That just violated so many of my principals I don't think I can talk to you anymore," Trowa muttered to the other male in disbelief.

Jordan started laughing again.

"Are things in order here?" Heero muttered, studying the woman. "Jordan probably wants to get home and crash."

"It's safer here," Quatre noted to Wufei.

"Not by much," Wufei raised an eyebrow.

The braided male sniggered.

"How are you, precious?" Trowa muttered, moving instantly to Chai's side as he noticed her.

She gave him a slightly embarrassed smile and looked pointedly to Jordan.

"Everything seems to be in order," the woman muttered, looking the clipboard over. "The doctor has a prescription written up," she added, passing the slip of paper to Heero. "I imagine you'll be filling this?"

"Of course," Heero agreed, frowning at the paper. "Shouldn't it be a stronger dose? He's labor."

"He shouldn't work for a month or so," she explained.

Jordan closed his eyes as the death sentence was repeated.

"That's an awfully long time," Quatre noted. "Are you sure you can't up the dose?"

"It would risk permanent injury, which would harm him more in the long run than a month's much needed vacation."

"I can't _do_ that," Jordan snapped at her.

"The risk is yours to take," she repeated her earlier words to him. "Are there any other questions?"

"No, ma'am," Heero reassured her. "We're knowledgeable in flesh wounds."

"Very well, if you'll come this way, Jordan," she turned and started from the room.

The pilots looked to one another as their old friend limped after the woman, then to Chai.

Her eyes were brimming again.

"I think we have a problem," Quatre noted seriously, studying the girl. "I think we have a very _serious_ problem."

"And what do you suggest we do, mighty leader?" Wufei retorted sardonically. "Drag him to base and throw him in intensive? I highly doubt that would work for anyone. Une'd have his balls on a silver platter before we could blink."

"And you know he won't let us pay his bills for him," Heero agreed, then sighed. "Come on, we need to get to his place, then we can figure things out."

"We could buy him a flat up town," Wufei suggested tentatively as he followed Chai. "That way they could both have somewhere safe."

"If we drop that much cash on anything, Une'll get a note for it," Quatre disagreed. "I think she might get a flag for this little issue. How much was that bill, Heero?"

"I didn't look," he noted, turning to meet Quatre's eyes. "The fee isn't important to me. He needed care."

"I thought it was only Jor who talked like people weren't there," Chai muttered to Trowa.

"Oh, no. He never used to do it, but we all sorta did. It's a horrible habit, and I suggest you never fall into it."

She grinned at that as the others in the group rolled their eyes.

"Let's get the hell out of here," Jordan muttered, moving to the group again with a packet of papers in his hands. "I need to talk to Jon."

"Jon?" Heero asked levelly, studying the braided laborer with narrowed eyes. When all he got in return was the same level look, he smiled sweetly. "What a coincidence. It just so happens that I need to speak with him myself."

"You can't come up when I'm up there," Jordan informed him.

"I wouldn't interfere with your business for the world," Heero agreed darkly. He took Chai by the arm and started for his car. "You can ride with the rest, I'll take her."

"I'm not comfortable with that," Jordan informed him, stopping. "Me and you hit Jon's place and they go back to the apartment."

"But the bag is at the apartment," Chai protested, focusing on him.

"Shut your mouth," he told her quite calmly, then looked back to Heero.

"Bag?"

"Let's get to the car, He-man," Jordan snapped, starting to limp again.

"Stop walking," Trowa muttered, grabbing his arm. "That hurts to watch."

Jordan gave him a level look.

"I'll get he van," Tro added, then indicated that Heero should go with him. "We'll pick you up in about three minutes," he noted. The pair jogged off.

"I can give you a thousand dollars right here and now," Wufei informed his old friend. "If you agree to pay your rent with it, get food, and pay your utilities."

"I won't accept," Jordan said firmly, looking away.

"You're on your ass for a month, Duo," he snapped.

"I'm _not_ Duo anymore," Jordan snapped, focusing on him. "How many times will I have to _explain_…"

"Duo Maxwell," Chai breathed, staring at him in disbelief. She looked to Wufei, then to Quatre. "Oh my god…" she started to step back, pressing a hand to her mouth.

"Baby," Jordan protested, catching her arm, "don't freak out on me…not tonight. We can fight all day tomorrow, but tonight…I need you to just…just…exist with me…please?"

She stared at him a long moment, then turned to look at the rest of the group.

"I've been with you for four years," he whispered, pulling her slightly closer to his body. "In all that time I've only asked for your safety…just this once…one time…can you do something for me? Can you accept…this bullshit?" The man gestured to his comrades.

Chai stared at him a long moment, then nodded as she swallowed very slightly, moving to stand against him as she tried to understand what emotions she was feeling.

"Thank you," he muttered, holding her tightly a moment as Heero's car slid next to them. "I'm sorry," he added, kissing her briefly…and slid into the vehicle.

The door wasn't even completely closed as the car squealed from the parking garage.

Chai stared after it a moment, then turned to look at the slightly smiling males around her. With a minimum of conversation, she allowed herself to be helped into the back seat as Wufei climbed into the passenger seat. Quatre climbed into the vehicle after her, and she met his eyes uncertainly.

_The_ Quatre Winner…

Quatre smiled slightly at her, resting a reassuring hand on her leg, then nodded at Trowa.

They started for the apartment.

- -

"You're alive!" Jon exclaimed, jumping from his seat to throw himself at Jordan, clinging to the man a long moment before pulling away with a half-sob in his voice. "Are you all right? They called and said you never showed…the price had…Aaron." The man noticed suddenly that the other man was standing with the duffel bag draped over his neck.

"It was a set-up, thanks for the warning," Jordan noted, moving to drop himself onto the couch. "Give it to him, Aaron," he added.

Heero un-slung the duffel and tossed it hard at the man so it hit him in the stomach.

"You gave them the cash?" Jon muttered.

"I also took two more packages," Jordan agreed, patting his pocket. "You want'em?"

"You stole it?" Jon demanded in high amusement. "You're a _horrible_ man."

"Full of sin," Jordan agreed, tilting his head. "You know I could sell it on my own and make twice your profit. Are we dealing or not?"

"How much do I owe you for the wounding?" he muttered, sitting across from the guy before gesturing for Aaron to sit with them.

"He paid it," Jordan replied, indicating Heero as the man sat next to him on the couch. "Talk to him about it. You realize I'm pissed at you, right? I can't do anything until this heals."

"You're stuck here, then?" Jon asked, not connecting the fact that his friend would be hiding information from the man at his side. "I can hide you if the feds come after you, you know that, don't you? If your friend here can drive, I can get you off state soil."

"I can drive him," Heero agreed in amusement. "I have a set-up up north."

"You think you're funny," Jordan noted with a laugh that sounded genuine. "But you're not."

Heero did laugh at that, slamming his fist into the pilot's left leg.

"Wrong side, asshole," Jordan retorted…and jumped away from the pilot as the man attempted to hit the actual wound.

"Tell me, Aaron," Jon muttered, narrowing his eyes at the guy. "Are you fed?"

Heero stopped moving, focusing back on him.

"I'm sure you noticed I'm in some deep shit," Jon added. "I fronted money to a man I thought I could trust and found out that he was intending to use it for an assassination."

Jordan settled again, looking to the ceiling.

"Shifton?" Heero pressed.

"I can't answer that," Jon gave him a look. "I can tell the two of you are a lot closer than I was formerly led to believe, though. Jordan showed up here a few years ago offering services as a paid gun-man." He sat back. "I never got his history and only just found out last night that he was military. Your appearance in my bar," he gestured to the building, "upset my dear friend. Suddenly he needed money to _go_. You were gone at that point, and I just piece the rest together as I go. If you could afford to pay his med bill, then that implies a close kin-ship, and a working job."

"You're walking on thin ice," Jordan noted pointedly.

"Fed. Yes or no," Jon didn't bother looking at the wounded man.

"I can't answer that," Heero returned with a shrug. "Especially not when I just delivered you twenty pounds of vrit."

"Oh, you looked?" the man smiled. "I was currying meth and kaseen when Jordan showed up. Turns out the offense was more than my life is worth. What do you think? Is vrit so horrible?"

"How about," Jordan sat up, "you pay the man about four thousand and pay me _my_ four thousand, we go home, and tomorrow when I'm high as a kite you hit my place and the two of you discuss things."

"You have no need to pay your rent," Jon informed Jordan. "Consider it your workers comp."

Jordan nodded tersely.

"Just like that?" Heero demanded of his friend in disbelief. "You accept his charity just like that?"

"The man is responsible for me getting shot in the leg," Jordan retorted, meeting his eyes. "We don't have an organized union out here. We take what we get."

"Hold that thought," Jon suggested, opening his cell phone. "Breer."

The phone exploded with noise as someone shouted in several languages at the kingpin.

"I have my product," Jon noted in mild amusement. "What does the rest have to do with me? Oh? My man? Well, he got shot in the leg…well, their lives mean nothing to me."

Heero focused on Jordan in disbelief.

"Oh, spare me," Jon was amused. "You set your men to follow him and he protected his interest and my ownblack mark'im?" The kingpin laughed delightedly. "Who in their right mind would come into _my_ home and kill him? You don't have enough _money_ to tempt that fate."

"You killed?" Heero whispered at the braided man in disbelief.

Jordan stood slowly to his feet as their host slammed the cell phone closed, studying the ex-pilot's eyes. "It was them or me," Jor agreed darkly, "and me isn't _just_ me. Me is Chai. She means more to me than you could even begin to understand."

"I don't understand it," Jon noted, sitting back as he looked between the pair.

"You could have wounded them," Heero protested in disbelief. "Marked them…scared them away…"

"You don't live here, so I'll forgive you," Jon noted, rising himself to stand near the pair. "Simple marking is tagging yourself for death. That man won't really set assassins on Jor's tail. He's too scared of what I might do. See, Jordan himself doesn't realize what I've done for him."

Jordan focused on the guy, blinking.

Jon smiled slightly at him, looking back to Heero. "Do you know that I'm so close to falling in love with your dear friend that it's not even funny?"

"Shit, Jon…" Jordan started, looking away.

"It's sad to me," the man added, shrugging slightly. "He has no interest whatsoever, but I do what I can to keep his boat floating. He only lets me help him when he helps me, though…so I do other things."

"What did you do?" Jordan demanded, his heart fluttering as he realized the man hadn't told him something.

"You were almost mugged the first night Aaron showed up," Jon returned, meeting his eyes. "The men who attempted it will never attempt it again."

Jordan's mouth dropped open.

"No need for thanks," Jon informed him quietly, turning away. "Feel free to leave."

Heero looked to the braided pilot uncertainly as the kingpin moved across the room to look down at the club.

"Jon…" Jordan started, stepping forward.

"I _said_ to _**leave**_!" Jon shouted at him.

Jordan hesitated, but Heero recognized the note of authority about to snap and drug the pilot toward the door.

"Hold up," the guy muttered, turning from the window. "Two more bags."

"What?" Heero asked blankly.

Jordan reached into his pants pockets and dug out the bags, tossing them to the couch. He studied the mob-leader a long moment in silence, then turned and limped from the room.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Jon informed Heero darkly.

"You could have gone about that better," Heero returned. "You ruined all chances."

Jon gave him a disgusted look. "I never had a chance to begin with."

- -

"You're mad at me?" Heero asked Une in disbelief. "I have my time off and you can't call me on it…listen, I have some shit I'm planning to do today. I have to go."

"Go down to the river," Jordan sang happily as he lay back against Trowa's back, "Sink'em into the wa-a-ater…"

Trowa sniggered as Heero covered the mouthpiece and gave the man a pointed look. He indicated the mouthpiece and pointed at the drugged American.

"Shut your mouth or I'll...kiss you," Trowa muttered, grabbing the first threat that came to mind.

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G…" Jordan added, then laughed delightedly and darted in like he'd kiss the other pilot.

"I'm…I have friends over," Heero added in amusement as the pair started wrestling. "We'll be back tomorrow."

"Did you realize you have red in your hair?" Jordan demanded suddenly, sitting up and pressing his friend against the back of the couch as he picked at the individual strands of hair.

Trowa started laughing helplessly.

"Yep…have a good one." Heero slammed his cell shut and turned to look at the pair on the couch.

"What?" Jordan muttered, leaning more over the other to look at the mass of hair more closely.

"No wonder Jon wants you," the pilot teased.

"I _told_ that fucker to drop that shit!" Jordan shouted, turning to point at Heero with the focus of one drugged and feeling no painand no common sense.

"You can't help how a person feels about you," Heero noted. "I get the impression that he doesn't _pursue_ you."

Jordan dropped back to lay against the corner of the couch, blinking several times before pressing his eyes closed…they didn't open.

"Man, he's fuckin' flipped," Trowa muttered, climbing out from under him.

"Imagine him working heavy machinery," Heero added, blinking several times. "He doesn't even eat right."

Jordan shivered slightly, curling into a ball before crying out in pain. He wasn't awake, but he was still half-sobbing…

"Man," Trowa breathed, moving quickly to resituate his leg. "What did they give him? Horse-tranqs?"

"Seems like it," Heero agreed, moving to read the bottle, then tossed it to his friend and moved into the bedroom. He emerged a moment later with a blanket and draped it over the guy. He noticed again how threadbare the thing was and sighed sadly. "How can he live like this?" he asked, turning to lead Trowa into the kitchen. "How can he have Chai here?"

"The blankets in her room are almost new," Trowa noted, shaking his head. "If he loves her so much…why doesn't he get her out of here?"

"I don't know," Heero muttered, hearing a man and woman start shouting at each other down the hall. "He could get any job at all."

"But we looked for him everywhere else, didn't we?" Trowa noted. "Everything we thought would be his lowest. None of us imagined he'd have ran to the gutters."

"This isn't living," Heero agreed, running a hand along the wall. "This is barely surviving."

Trowa nodded his agreement as he picked up a book that was on the counter. It took him a moment to realize it was a book he himself had bought and lent the other not long before they'd all ran. He stared in amazement at the worn cover and opened it to read the note he'd scrawled to the other about hurrying up and returning it.

"What's that?" Heero asked, moving closer.

"I let him borrow this," he muttered, studying the creases in the binding. "I didn't think he'd really read it."

"He used to read all the time, though," Heero protested. "You guys saw him running around with his car magazines, but when I'd hit our dorm he'd usually have a book cracked open."

"Huh…I never thought it." Trowa flipped through a few pages, then pulled out an old and worn pictureit was in the same condition as the book…but folded in half. He opened it and grinned at the picture of them all standing at attention.

Heero took the thing and studied it, then tossed it back in the book. He left the kitchen wordlessly and disappeared into Jordan's bedroom. After a long minute, he returned and set a book on top of the one that had been there. "I don't know about you," he added, "but I can't wait for this all to be over."

"The issue is, though," Tro muttered, crossing his arms, "we're not going to get him back."

"But maybe when he realizes we won't let her find him," Heero said hopefully as he poured himself a cup of coffee, "he'll let us back."

Tro moved to lean against the wall and study the drugged pilot in the living room, glancing back to his partner. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

- -

"Your _friends_ wouldn't let me pay for _anything_!" Chai half-shouted at Jordan as she stormed back into the apartment, throwing bags on the chair to focus on the pilot.

"What?" Jordan returned, ignoring the gnawing pain in his leg. He was willing to try anything once, but those pain-pills had knocked him on his ass and made him lose track of a serious amount of time.

He had no intentions of taking them again.

"What kind of people _are_ they?" she hissed, moving to drop onto his lap and cling to his chest. "I'm not some sort of slut."

Jordan blinked as those thoughts processed through several layers of psyche. Initially was the response of him going to kick their ass, which was followed instantly by the idea that they hadn't intending offense. Subsequently, he was realizing that Chai had no basis for comparison.

"And then Jon gave me money for telling him you were here," she added, looking around the apartment until she noticed the closed bedroom door. "I went to get what we'd need, and while we were in line, Cody distracted me while Daniel paid…he paid for _all_ of it!"

The ex-pilot laughed before he could help himself, clinging to her as another shot of pain lanced up his leg. He hissed, biting his lip as he tried to force the feeling away.

"You okay?" she demanded, pulling away slightly to frown at him.

"I put off the meds," he informed her, shaking his head. "I can't deal with that kind of…I can't _think_ on them." He ran a hand down his face. "They didn't mean anything by it, either." He gestured toward the hall, where he could hear his old friends muttering uncertainly. "They aren't from here and when they want a girl to bed'em they act _completely_ differently."

The two soldiers moved into the apartment as he made the statement, and both stopped to blink at him.

"You've heard of seduction, right?" Jordan added. "They know how to do it, they don't just spend money and expect something in return."

"What?" Wufei asked quietly.

"You can't just take someone from this _world_ and start buying them shit," Jordan snapped at them both. "Usual retribution is a night in bed as long as the favors last. I know you didn't mean anything by it, but you really offended her."

Chai looked away from them.

"At least, I hope you didn't mean anything by it," Jordan noted darkly, narrowing his eyes at them.

"You've lived here too long if you can say that about us with a straight face," Quatre noted, crossing his arms.

"Just making sure is all," Jordan reassured them, then looked to the ceiling. "Can she _work_ for you?" he added, meeting their eyes. "You have apartments, I know you do…she can clean. That'd give her a way to make money on her own…and then…"

The door to the bedroom opened and Jon moved to sit tiredly next to Jordan on the couch. He covered his face in his hands as Heero and Trowa moved from the room with similar tired expressions.

"Was it him?" Wufei asked quietly.

"Just the money," Jon returned quietly, not looking up. "I had no idea it'd be used against Marquisehe's one of the only ones I _like_ on that god-forsaken panel. I'd never have given the money if I'd known…"

"So maybe you should listen to me when I tell you your little butterfly is dangerous," Jordan noted to him pointedly. "Something for something from a politician? I mean, you're dense, but not _that_ dense."

Jon glared at the man.

"What's…going on?" Chai asked quietly.

"We're taking him in tomorrow," Heero explained. "He gives his statement and we set him back here. If it weren't for Jor, we'd never have seen his face. There's no way Shifton can get men on him here."

"He can get Lamb to get hit-men, though," Jor said seriously, looking up to Heero and shaking his head. "Lamb's had it out for him…"

"We don't only serve as field agents," Heero noted pointedly. "Or maybe we should say our parameters of jurisdiction include a license to kill."

Jordan stared at him in disbelief.

"I think I like your friend, Jordan," Jon muttered, looking up to the ex-pilot. "Think I could get him to work for me?"

"He'd be the double agent," Jordan warned. "He wouldn't be loyal to you."

"Even if I pay well?" the man protested.

"Especially if you pay well," Jordan smiled slightly as he looked up to his old friend. "He has these weird things called 'morals'. I don't know exactly what they are, but I hear they make men do odd things."

Heero offered him a crooked grinChai smacked him in the face with a pillow.

"Take the pills before I shove them down your throat," Trowa ordered, moving forward.

"All right! All right! Fine!" Jordan fended the man off and picked the pills up, studying them a long moment with apparent revulsion. "How I hate thee, cruel fate…" and he swallowed the pills dry.

Trowa sighed. "Get him something to drink."


	7. Fluff and Bother

**Fluff and Bother**

"Um, no," Heero smiled sweetly at Une. "Our agreement was that I take him in, he makes his statement, and we take him back home. He agreed not to run…"

"He's a criminal, Yuy," Une noted almost sarcastically from where she stood beside her desk. "Of _course_ he'll tell you what you want to hear."

"Ah, but _Rico_, Une…"

"Rico, Rico, Rico," she snapped, crossing her arms. "Private citizen my ass."

If she had any idea how close she really was to the truth, Heero wondered what she'd do. He ran his tongue along his teeth a moment as he considered her, then shrugged. "I'll stay with him."

"Rico?" Une asked blankly.

"No, with Breer," Heero retorted. "I'll keep his ass camped where I can grab him on a moment's notice—I'll even keep my phone on."

"I need you here," she said darkly. "I need you with Zechs."

"There's this amazing thing you have called a police force," Heero informed her, moving around the chairs to stand at her face. "And what you do is call the chief to you, and tell _him_ that Zechs' life is to be safe-guarded. He does this thing then that sends everyone scrambling and Zechs camps out comfy in his home while he heals enough to take care of himself again. It's…amazing what civil servants can do, and what they're willing to do."

"You're making me cross," she informed him.

"Ma'am," he muttered, standing straight again.

She sighed, moving to sit behind her desk. "But you have a point."

"I should also mention we'll be coming up with more casualties from lower Angels," he noted, studying her with interest. "Rico knows the players club there-abouts. He can pinpoint who'd move against Breer first."

The leader let out a long sad sigh. "I wish Duo'd come back," she muttered seriously. "He'd have this figured out in three days," she crossed her arms and rested her head against them. "I'm getting too old for this, Heero. When is he coming back to us?"

"He's not," Heero informed her truthfully. "He's gone. Unfreeze his account and let him go. As far as I can figure, that'll bring him back in."

Une sat up, her eyes glowing. "I can trace his accounts! I can! And we could find him! You could go talk to him!"

"You know, you baby-sit our accounts more than enough," the soldier noted, sitting in a chair himself. "Should I remind you that we're twenty-three years old?"

She gave him a dirty look.

"Breer made his statement, and I'm sure he's getting nervous. He's cooperating with us fully, so I'm going to make good my word." He considered her eyes a long moment. "You would have agreed wholeheartedly with anything J…Duo suggested."

"He grew up on the streets," Une replied, sitting back. "He can work in any society by rules we'd never even _begin_ to comprehend, and he'd pull it off flawlessly. That's what I prize about him, his versatility. You four are wonderfully skilled, but Quatre's…too nice," she thought a moment, then met his eyes. "You're emotionally distant, Wufei is…a warrior through and through…and Trowa is…fay. Duo melds with any community."

"Are you saying I couldn't do that?" Heero demanded, his mind instantly working out how he could assimilate himself into Jordan's society. "Are you saying I haven't been pulling off Duo-esque stunts since you failed to find him?"

"I'm saying that you'd be fine until someone tried to move in emotionally, friendship or otherwise. They'd realize that you're not truly present."

"I think I resent that," he noted, rising to his feet again.

"Which is exactly my point," she muttered, rising herself and gathering up papers to stuff into a file folder. "Give this to Edward and take Breer back to the dump. If you're so sure he won't run, you don't need to stay."

Heero smirked slightly as he wondered exactly _how_ loyal to Jordan Jonathan was, then nodded his head. "Very well."

She saluted. "Dismissed…if you get blood on your hands, you'd better wash them thorough."

Heero considered pointing out to the woman that he'd be able to pull off ending _her_ life without getting caught—he decided against it, though. It seemed inappropriate somehow. He saluted in return, turning crisply and moving from the room. He dropped the military manner as he moved into the lobby where Quatre and Trowa were sitting with their weapons in hand as Jon read a magazine.

The…citizen…looked up to Heero, looking him over seriously. "Ah, the great war hero returns."

"You're annoying," Heero informed him happily, then looked to Quatre. "You're too nice," he looked to Trowa. "And you're fay."

"What?" Trowa asked blankly.

"You're fay. Une said so herself."

Trowa gave him a disbelieving look, then moved through the door into the woman's office.

"Let's go," Heero added to the man. "Don't steal the magazine, that's tacky."

"You're rude," Jon noted, tossing the magazine to the seat.

"Actually, there's an article in that one I've been trying to read for a month now," Heero noted with a grin. "Jones!" he shouted to the office area. "Paperwork from the queen."

"What does she want _now_?" the man demanded, taking the folder Heero was carrying and blinking at the name on it. He saluted Heero respectfully, then turned to do his job.

"And we're gone," Heero muttered, linking arms with the man. "So tell me, how likely are you to run?"

"I have a bit of an urge," the man noted, considering it. "Why do you ask?"

"Because if I think you're going to run, I'm to stay with you. If I decide you're loyal to Jordan, I can come back."

"That's an interesting set of phrases," Jon noted, extending his hands as Quatre removed the tracking cuffs from his wrists.

"Une wants Jor back," Heero added to Quatre with a frown. "I'm trying to get her to unfreeze his accounts, but I think she'd baby-sit it."

"He has accounts?" Jon asked curiously. "I thought that was…"

"Oh, he has money," Heero reassured the man. "He invested early by advice of an older friend we've got. He doubled the money he put in fairly quickly, and now it's just sitting there collecting interest."

"How much money are we talking?" the kingpin demanded, startled as he realized how sincere the soldier was.

"Enough that he could buy the slums," Heero shrugged, "and still have money to rebuild."

"That wouldn't take much," Jon noted.

"But more an average citizen," Quatre pointed out. "I'm sure you've noticed that Jordan isn't an average man."

"Yeah," Jon smirked very slightly, then made a face. He turned his head back to Heero as the doors opened. "I'd give anything to see him happy. I've seen glimmers of it…but to see him _truly_ happy…"

"I miss him," Heero admitted easily, leading the way toward his personal car. "We used to try Une's patience until she was about to pull her hair out and scream at us."

"Then why did you leave? Why did he leave?"

Heero shook his head sadly as Quatre looked to the tall windows of the building. "You have to do some things, Jon. We _aren't_ gods."

Jon snorted slightly as he climbed into the car. "Could have fooled me."

Heero grinned slightly, sliding in himself. "Maybe we were trying to."

- -

Jordan stared out the dirty windows of his apartment at the lowered darkness as the couple down the hall started shouting at each other again. "I thought you knew, in all honesty," he muttered, focusing on Chai again. "I've never been one to hide from a camera, and my braid is a signature."

"I thought it was a personal choice," she said quietly, still studying his face. "And I didn't think you were anymore than another person with dreams that would never come true."

He frowned slightly at her. "Our dreams _will_ come true, Chai. Me and you…"

"That's what we say to get us through the day," she noted with a slight smile.

"Pessimist," he accused.

"Optimist," she shot back.

He smiled more at her and shrugged. "I really never thought it was something we needed to talk about. I mean…we don't talk about your life before me, so I just imagined we could leave my life before you alone."

"You imagined? You honestly thought I knew, but you imagined what I'd say?"

"I realized you didn't know," he noted, raising an eyebrow.

"Were you _planning_ on telling me?"

"Yeah, when we were moving…when you wouldn't leave me." He gave her a wan smile as his leg throbbed. "In all honesty, I can't imagine my life without you. Everything I've done for the past four years…is for you."

She smiled at him, moving to crawl onto his lap. "Can we say it now?"

"Say what?" he muttered, not quite looking at her.

"You're mine," she informed him, kissing him lightly. "You've been mine…and I've been yours. Let's drop the just-friends crap."

"I don't want…"

"I don't care what you want right now," she noted, sitting up to study his eyes.

He gave her a reproachful look.

"I'll move my things into your room," she informed him happily, bouncing across the living room into her bedroom.

Jordan stared, trying to piece together exactly what had happened. Every time he thought he was getting somewhere, though, pain would distract him.

"Take the pills," Chai suggested, moving back to him with a cup of water he hadn't seen her get. "I know you don't like how they make you loopy, but they'll help."

The ex-pilot blinked at her, then shook his head. "I want to know what happened as soon as I can."

"You can't even listen right now," she retorted. "You're focusing internally."

He focused on her again, then swallowed the water she was pouring into his mouth—he realized too late that she'd given him the pills, then started laughing weakly.

Chai giggled, kissing him. "I'll make them stay here, okay? I'll freak out if I have to so they stay. You're really not worth anything with these meds."

That got her another look, and she crawled onto his lap, pulling the blanket he'd been covering with over them both. "You asked me to exist with you and not freak out," she noted. "I'll exist with you and not freak out, but you'd better make concessions. Your high and mighty principles are a bit inconvenient."

Jordan started laughing at that, wrapping his arms around her…who knew? He got his friends back, got shot, and got a girlfriend for it…maybe he could get his money.

Maybe there was a way to get his money out of _her_ account and into one of his own.

That had potential.

- -

Jordan looked about to pass out as Heero led Quatre and Jon into the apartment. He semi-focused happily _unfocused_ eyes on the group, then indicated Chai. "'s my girlfriend."

"We…knew that," Quatre noted.

"No!" Jordan laughed, which caused the girl to stir. "Look in her room!"

Heero blinked at that, then took the step or two to see the…room? There didn't appear to be anything wrong with it. One of the blankets had been taken from the bed…no, her little things were gone.

The pilot blinked.

Jordan laughed. "She promised to exist with me," he noted, then focused on Jon.

"So you're gonna stop being a slut?" Jon asked, pretending to be crestfallen.

"Sorry, baby," Jordan agreed, then started laughing.

"So…what?" Quatre asked Chai seriously.

"We were talking," she explained, sitting up. "He noted a few things about doing everything for me, and since we were on the topic, I noted that we really weren't just-friends." The girl shrugged, rising to her feet. "I also promised him to make you lot stay until the tranqs wear off."

"All right," Heero agreed, moving to sit on the chair as he studied her. "So that means that room's free, right?" he pointed at the spare.

She smiled at him.

"He's a criminal," Heero noted, pointing at Jon. "I'm staying here for the duration of the legal proceedings. Trowa and I both heard his story, and we both reported on it back at base. Une agreed to let me keep an eye on him." He thought a moment as the woman down the hall shouted something and the man shouted something back. "Um…hold on a minute," he suggested, then moved toward the door.

"What are you doing?" Quatre protested, moving to follow.

"Nothing," Heero lied happily, shutting the door.

They all exchanged curious looks, though Jordan's was a bit more bemused. Everyone jumped slightly as a door slammed open and cracked. The arguing couple fell silent, and after a long moment, they heard Heero's low voice saying something.

Jordan started laughing.

"I could _really_ use him," Jon noted, focusing on Jordan's unseeing eyes. "You sure he'd double on me?"

"Huh?" Jordan returned in confusion.

"Nothing," Jon muttered, starting to laugh a bit. "I…can I sit down?"

"Your ass hurt or something?" Jordan returned.

Chai started giggling and gestured to the couch and chair. "Sorry, everything's happening really fast right now."

The man snapped something, and Heero raised his voice more. The woman attempted to screech something, and there was the sound of movement…and a heavy thud.

The woman and man both fell silent.

"I'm not putting up with your shouting," Heero informed them both clearly. "The walls here are too thin. If you're that angry at each other, leave."

"It's not that simple," Chai noted quietly.

The door slammed shut and cracked again, and they waited the few moments for Heero to move into the room again, shaking his head.

"Want me to get them evicted?" Jon offered.

"Get them evicted?" Heero asked, raising an eyebrow. "What kind of eviction?"

"The kind where they move away," Jon smirked at him. "I don't kill all the time."

"You do too," Jordan retorted.

Jon waved him off, shrugging at Heero. "I owe you something, and I'm gonna keep offering shit until you accept."

"Get me someone who knows Angels and won't talk," Heero shrugged. "I have a few people to dispose of here shortly, and the boy-toy there's a bit worthless."

"Boy-toy," Jordan started laughing. "You used to call me that all the time, you know that?"

Heero grinned slightly at him, looking back to Jon.

"Now I really _am_ curious about how he used to be," the kingpin noted, studying the half-present former-soldier.

"The god of death?" Jordan asked, looking dreamily to the ceiling. "The prodigal son? Satan's sock-puppet?"

Chai burst out laughing at that.

"Dear god," Jon muttered as Heero rolled his eyes. "Do I even _want_ to know?"

"We had a few bi friends," Heero explained with a laugh. "Combine the seventeen year old mentality with complete lack of homophobia, and you can get some fucked up jokes."

"So that's why he's never even blinked at me?" Jon asked, seeming startled. "I'm bi," he added, studying the guy.

"I kinda noticed," Heero muttered as if he were imparting a possibly painful secret. "I mean…you tried to get him to pimp me for you."

Jon started laughing.

"No, he wanted me to sell you to him, there's a difference." Jordan's eyes focused a brief moment, and he looked around. "Where are the rest?"

Heero shrugged. "They might show up, they might not. I'm gonna claim Chai's room. I'll stay with you."

"You askin'?" Jordan retorted, his eyes still focused.

"I'm saying," Heero gave him a challenging look.

"Well, in _that_ case…" Jordan trailed off, blinking a few times. "Wow…I'm tired."

"Lucid moments must be exhausting," Quatre noted in amusement.

"He took the pills about twenty minutes ago," Chai explained, looking to her watch. "Come on, Jor…you should go to bed now."

"Probably," he agreed, rubbing his arms slightly. "It's cold in here."

"I got him," Heero muttered, moving around the coffee table to assist his friend to his feet. "Come on…you'll be warmer if you put a shirt on."

"I don't have any clean," Jordan muttered.

"You did laundry like…two days ago," Heero protested.

Jordan laughed a bit. "Take a look around you, buddy-boy. You're in hell."

Heero looked to Quatre a moment, then assisted his friend toward the bedroom. He didn't have anything to say on the comment, but he was confused why Chai hadn't told them Jor only had a few shirts. She'd been sure on the pants, but…and he couldn't just ask her what he needed, because by this point she'd have gathered he'd buy it.

The ex-pilot situated himself on the bed, then focused his slightly deranged looking eyes on his old friend. "Tuck me in, daddy."

Heero snorted and tucked the blankets around his friend.

"I know I don't say it," Jordan muttered in a serious tone. "But it's nice to have you back."

The soldier ruffled his friend's hair. "I missed you."

"Maybe when all this is over…" Jordan trailed off.

"Maybe," Heero agreed, turning away from the sleeping man to move back into the living room.

"I hate maybe," Quatre muttered, pulling out his car keys and turning toward the front door. "I'm getting our shit. I'll be back."

- -

"It all came to a head when Une realized I'd had a few too many beers," Heero noted the next night as he and Jon sat in the room above the bar. "The only thing that was wrong about the entire ordeal was that I decided about three seconds early to hit the button. Of course," he added, "it might just have been that Daniel was three seconds too late. We'd been going one for one. He got a tad bit singed."

Jonathan shook his head, offering the pilot a beer he'd just opened from the small fridge under a window. "That's insane."

"No, what was insane," Heero noted, "was Une's livid lecture. She was all over the map on it. She finally ended with her custom 'I wish Duo were here,' and went off to cry."

"She says that?" Jon was startled.

"All the time," Heero rolled his eyes. "She's got him on some kind of pedestal or something. He's the kinda guy that can go into a place and be completely accepted in about an hour. She wanted him to become an intelligence agent, but she could never get him to cut off that damn braid."

Jon grinned at that, taking a drink as he thought. "He does that kind of shit," he noted. "Jor's always working his way into fine seams. On a professional level, it makes me jealous. All my competitors want him."

"You're his friend, though," Heero reassured the man. "His first loyalty is to his family, no matter where that happens to be. He always needs somewhere to go home to at the end of the day."

"Yeah," Jon agreed, focusing out the windows. "It took me about six months to get him to accept my getting him crap here. I have a tab, and told the bartenders to put him on it. He used to freak out about not paying for his shit."

"He's got some issues with charity, and to his mind, they're good reasons." Heero focused out the window himself. "See, every time he _lets_ someone help him, they end up getting hurt or in trouble."

"You make him act different," Jon muttered quietly, looking to the tired looking male sitting at a table with the others of the group. "He laughs more with you."

"I can't imagine him not laughing," Heero noted, rising and moving to look out the window himself. "I can't imagine him not being happy. He was always so optimistic that it made me sick before…and then that was gone."

"Is he more than…a friend?" Jon asked quietly, studying the male's back. "What I mean is…"

Heero turned to grin slightly at him and shrug. "I was raised as a weapon—emotionless. I didn't know a _thing_ about emotions when the wars ended. I had regret, excitement…fear. Most of all fear. Full dark freaked me out, sudden movements sent me to my feet with a gun…loud noises made me duck and cover. The more removed from the actual fighting we got, the more panicked I'd get. He basically held my hand and led me through it." He shook his head, studying the man, "He helped me get my first girlfriend, then helped me when we broke up. He helped me hit college, and talk Une into letting us drop it…speeches, face-to-face meetings…everything. From about sixteen to when we busted, he was never more than ten feet away from me."

"And then he was gone," Jon noted, studying the guy. "Talk about your culture shock."

Heero sighed and nodded. "Yeah…and now he's back." The guy focused out the window again. "And I honestly can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad one."

There was a knock on the door and Heero noted that Jordan was studying the wall seriously with his eyes flicking to the bottom of the stairs.

"Enter," Jon called, rising to his feet.

Heero pulled his gun, raising it to an approximate head height without looking in the direction.

"You wanted me?" a man asked, moving into the room…and freezing as he noted the gun.

"This is Aaron Smith," Jon returned. "I've hired him to do a bit of cleaning for me. He needs a guide, though," the kingpin moved around the couch and touched Heero's wrist lightly. The pilot lowered the gun, focusing toward the man with his best emotionless expression. "Are you interested?"

"If I'm not?"

"I've hired him to do some cleaning up for me," Jon returned, shrugging slightly.

Jordan rested back where he was sitting, focusing on his companions seriously.

Heero cocked the weapon.

"I didn't say no!" the guy said instantly, practically jumping to extend Jon his hand. "Half fee…"

"Don't be ridiculous," Jon muttered pleasantly. "You get your full fee, but only half before the job is done."

"If you get in my way," Heero informed him coldly, "I'll kill you. What do I call you?"

The guy swallowed, looking him over—he froze when Heero un-cocked his weapon, then glanced to Jon.

"His name is Monty, Aaron," Jon noted with a slight grin. "Treat him well, he's my sister's lover. I get upset when she gets upset."

"Very well," Heero said smoothly, pretending not to notice the man's startled look. "I'm going back downstairs." He started for the door.

"Aaron?" Jon asked curiously.

Heero paused.

"Tonight or tomorrow night?"

"Either," Heero returned. "I just need the hard numbers and I'm ready to go."

"Very well," Jon half-purred, "be ready, then."

Heero flashed him a cold smile. "I'm always ready."

Jonathon watched the man move down the stairs, then focused on his sister's boyfriend. "So…Carter, how are you?"


	8. All in a Day's Work

**All in a Day**

"What's the matter?" Heero muttered as he slid next to Jordan in the booth.

"What is Carter doing here?" Jordan muttered, his eyes flicking to the end of the stairs.

"He's going to take me around," Heero explained, connecting that "Monty" wasn't the real name. "You remember that, don't you?"

Jordan gave him an amazed look. "Do you have _any_ idea what's gonna happen if he _sees_ me?"

"No…why?" Heero blinked.

"I _fucked_ his girlfriend, Aaron," Jor muttered pointedly.

The soldier choked in disbelief. He'd forgotten the reason they'd gone up to see Breer that first day—and it had only been a week. At least, he hadn't realized that the sister was _with_ someone.

Jordan laughed evilly.

"I have to _work_ with this guy, Jor," Heero snapped.

"I didn't say _I_ would be the one starting the fight now, did I?" Jordan gave him a pouty look. "Don't mistreat me so."

"Oh god," Trowa muttered, rubbing his face. "And she says _I'm_ fay…"

"Huh?" Wufei asked blankly.

Trowa and Heero started sniggering.

- -

Jordan sighed as he rolled over and looked at Jon. Chai and the others had gone to a late night store for groceries—the girl was a bit shocked at the idea of buying _more_ food when there was still food in the house, but Heero had insisted, and somehow it led to a full escort.

"You high yet?" Jon muttered, laying across Jordan on the couch.

"No," Jordan returned easily, shifting how they were laying so the main of the kingpin's weight wasn't on his bad leg. "I hate being looped like that. I don't take the pills on my own."

"Oh, so I'm supposed to make you take then?" Jon made a face. "You know how I feel."

"The worst of the pain has passed," Jordan reassured him. "That was why they needed to knock me out like that. I'll be fine now."

"You sure?"

"I'm fine," Jordan repeated, grinning at the guy. "I'm cold, though."

"Here…" Jon snuggled against him.

"You're going to get me in trouble," Jor noted. "I meant cover us."

"Oh, I thought you were gonna tell me to get off," Jon sat up, moving to pull the blanket around.

"I'm tired," Jordan returned. "We should move into the room, you know. That way I can crash."

"I never realized that you didn't care," Jon muttered, studying the guy with interest. "I always thought you were just being polite by not commenting or anything."

Jordan sighed, rolling slightly to dump the other beside him on the cushions. "Caring is hard, I don't do it unless I have to. Besides, I know I'm hot, so it's not all your bad."

Jon started laughing.

"Why are you here, anyway?" Jordan added. "I used to invite you over and you always refused."

"I have to prove to Heero that I'm not gonna blow on you, or they'll put me in prison or something." The man's face creased in a frown. "I'm sorta upset…I don't know what to expect here at all."

"As long as they can prove what you say, they'll let you go. You'll need to fly straight for a while, but you have plenty of normal business ventures going on."

Jon looked away, obviously thinking about that. "You're still going to leave, aren't you?"

"I don't think Heero'll let me anymore," Jordan admitted. "He's staying in my apartment now, so the old bond will reassert, and he'll go anywhere I do. I don't think he'll turn me in, either."

"I don't imagine, I mean…he's like a brother to you."

"Yeah…yeah…" Jordan sighed, shaking his head. "It's hard…to care."

"You always say that, I don't understand."

"Maybe that's a good thing, maybe you don't need to."

"Take your drugs," Heero said firmly as he moved through the door, then stopped to raise an eyebrow at the pair.

"Ah…make me," Jordan muttered, making a dismissive gesture…they both stopped completely before Heero dove across the chair and Jordan darted off the couch. They both slammed into the far wall. The soldier wasn't laughing, but Jordan couldn't help himself.

"You look a little snuggly," Wufei noted, moving across the apartment toward the kitchen. He'd given Jon a look.

"I like to snuggle," Jon laughed a bit. "It doesn't hurt anything and it helps keep you warm. Doesn't this place have a heater?"

"Sure it does," Jordan muttered from where he was attempting to get Heero off of him. "It just costs too much to run in when it's not December or January…so we don't much."

"That's insane, Jordan!" Jon protested.

"You gonna start paying the electricity bill?" Chai snapped, then stopped as Jordan gave her a look.

"God, I thought you'd _never_ let me!" Jonathan jumped to his feet.

"Hey, we can do it ourselves," Heero muttered, giving the guy a dirty look.

"Okay, you get half and I get half," Jon decided easily.

"No," Jordan snapped.

"You don't have a choice," the kingpin informed him. "So just take a deep breath and call it apple pie."

"I _said_…" Jordan started, then started fighting against Heero again as the pilot got one of the pills into his mouth. "You keep those in your pocket or something?" Jordan demanded, outraged…as Heero finally got the second pill.

"Swallow," Heero ordered, "Don't make me make you."

He got a very dirty look for it, but Jordan did as told, shaking his head.

"And yes," the soldier added. "We all keep a pill or two on us because we know you're special."

"Fuck you," Jordan snapped, rising a bit strenuously to his feet to lean against the wall. "Get me something to drink."

Chai practically ran across the living room with a can of soda, offering it to him with an expression that clearly stated she wanted to placate him.

"You're not an asshole to her, are you?" Heero asked in a dangerous tone.

Jordan turned disgusted eyes on his old friend. "Fuck you."

"Has he hit you?" Heero demanded of Chai instead, studying her seriously.

"He wouldn't hit me," Chai informed him quickly. "He's not like that…he might be an asshole, but…"

"Well?" Heero asked Quatre—the two remaining pilots were moving into the room.

Quatre studied the girl a moment, then looked to Jordan. He studied his friend a moment before nodding slightly and heading into the kitchen.

Jordan clenched his jaw, not looking at any of them.

"Make you feel big?" Heero asked in a low voice. "Make you feel in control?"

Jordan refused to look at him as Chai looked away, about ready to cry.

"Why is it that every other day, everything I know about you goes out the window?" Heero added darkly, shifting back.

"I didn't do it on _purpose_," Jordan snapped, focusing on him instantly. "It was a long time ago and I was really fucking drunk."

"Good excuse," the soldier noted.

"I'm not making excuses, I'm explaining why it happened. She was bitching at me when I was in a bad mood and drunk. I did it, I shouldn't have, and it was only once."

Heero snorted in mild disgust.

"She's scared of making people mad," Quatre muttered as he moved into the living room again. "Jor's hit her once, but someone else did it a lot."

Chai looked to the floor.

"He was shot," Jon noted. "He was with a rival company of mine and out on business with someone he was killed."

Chai sniffed slightly, and Jordan moved forward to pull her to him. After a moment, he pulled slightly away from his girlfriend to level Heero with a dirty look. "So now that we've pissed each other off, let's go over it all. If any of you turn me into Une, I'll kick your fucking ass and be gone from you all forever. I'm not _dealing_ with her shit. The fucker Chai was with before beat her regularly and talked down to her, plus her father was a complete and total fucker. When she got pregnant by that guy, her family abandoned her because they weren't going to take care of her mistakes, and I happened to meet her about two weeks before the man died. He'd beat her, which was why she lost the baby. That covers all of it, and I'd take it as a courtesy if you never bring it up again."

"How many times have you hit her?" Heero retorted.

"You're just bound and determined to get into a fight with me tonight, aren't you?" Jordan asked levelly.

"Your high and mighty morals are about to piss me off," Chai informed Heero, moving to stand between the two men. "If you start fighting over something that happened years ago, I won't appreciate your _helping_ me," the word was only slightly sarcastic. "Jordan took me from a bad situation before it got worse, and he's stayed here with me through hell and fire when I'm starting to realize he coulda left at any point, and I've forgiven him for his fuck-up."

"At least she sees it as his bad," Trowa noted to Wufei.

"She could just be saying that, though," Wufei suggested, tilting his head at her. "I mean, if she's been treated badly by males her entire life…"

"But you know Jor wouldn't treat her badly, so maybe she's getting that other side of life?" Trowa thought about it a moment. "I mean…"

"She is just saying it," Quatre muttered, moving toward the kitchen again. "Let's finish unloading. It's not our business. She's sincere when she says she's not upset about it."

"I'm not scared of him," Chai informed Quatre. She didn't know why he was able to tell shit that had happened to her before, or shit that was going on in her mind, but if he truly understood her, he'd know the truth.

The blond turned to smile at her. "I know, pussycat."

Jordan's expression registered how upset he felt as he frowned at the girl.

"What?" she asked, not sure what he thought.

"It _wasn't_ your fault," he informed her, starting to shake his head. He focused on Heero and shoved him hard, then limped his way toward the bedroom.

"What was that about?" Jon asked blankly as the door slammed shut.

"That was him being frustrated and pissed and me being on hand," Heero shrugged. "Hazard of this friendship. He has a tendency to surrender to his baser urges."

Chai gave him a disgusted look, then turned and stormed toward the kitchen herself.

Heero blinked.

"That's her being in love," Jon noted. "You pissed off Jordan on her, and for all that she's not scared of him, she's scared of any guy who raises his voice."

The soldier frowned.

"Look around you, Heero," Jon muttered, rising to his feet to move in the guy's face. "There's no way to get out of this place unless you work for me or someone like me. That means drugs. When you do get out, you have a hard time making it, and a lot of the time you end up right back where you started…she doesn't expect anything to change and she never will. She won't latch on to anything out of this place and she'll cling to Jordan like second-hand smoke until he forces her away. You've upset him, and that means she has to deal with him upset. That makes you the enemy here. You're in the wrong, no matter how fucked up it was that Jordan hit her. Do you understand that? Do you have any idea where girls like her end up?"

"Dead, I'd imagine," Heero agreed, looking away.

"Or in brothels," Jon agreed. "Strung out and doing anything to make a buck."

The soldier swallowed hard, shaking his head. "I'm getting her out of here…"

"No, actually," Jon said quietly. "Until Jordan goes, she's not going anywhere."

Heero blinked.

"Jordan is how she lives," Jon explained quietly. "From month to month and day to day, she's living because of him. She's off the streets because of him…she'll leave because of him, but you're just a splash in the pan here. As far as she's concerned when this legal bullshit is over you'll be gone and their life will go back to normal."

"But…"

"But what? You gonna change the cycle? Break it? You have to start when they're children to do that."

Heero swallowed.

"Just leave her alone. Don't offer her more kindness than the basic reality here, because any more means you want to fuck her. Any more means you're intentions are single-minded. That's a sort of offense she won't get over lightly, especially since you're supposed to be a 'better'," he made air quotes, "kind of friend than the people here. She has you on a pedestal and if you fall off it you'll never get near her again."

Heero ran his hands down his face. "How do they _live_ like this?"

Jon gave him a slight smile. "What choice do they have?"

- -

"I used that money to buy a condo in Remington," Terry muttered, his eyes opening wide. "I didn't…I wouldn't…I _like_ Marquise!"

"The assassin gave us a name," Une informed the politician quietly. "That name led to another name that led to another name that led us to _you_."

"But I didn't do it!" he jumped from his seat to stare at her near tears. "Yeah, I borrowed money from Jon…but not to kill anyone! I wanted that flat in Remington and I wanted it off the political play-board…and I _still_ got flack for it! Everyone thought I was taking bribes! It was just…I _wanted_…"

"Jon?" Une asked curiously, turning to look at the man.

"Breer," Terry dropped down in his chair to frown at her, then look away. "We were lovers for a few months."

Une blinked at him.

"I went to Remington to get away…and kept going to see him," he swallowed. "He's an underground leader and has money to burn. He helped me pick the place himself…"

Une blinked again, not sure what she wanted to do now. This information was startling, and if he could prove that he'd used the money on the flat, and not for an assassin…

Terry covered his face with his hands, obviously emotionally upset. "He told you…what did he tell you?"

"That you wanted money for something and he gave it to you. He mentioned a flat, but said he didn't believe that's what you used the money on."

The man swallowed hard, rising to his feet. "May I go back to my rooms?"

"You may," Une agreed. She watched him leave the room with the stride of a man angry, then looked around to the camera mounted on the wall…she had nothing to say.

- -

Jon hadn't shown up all day long.

Heero frowned as he paced the living room, waiting to see the man. They'd verbally agreed to meet every day as a surety that Jon wasn't going to run off…and Heero was starting to question that decision.

"Let's go to the bar," Jordan muttered, pushing himself up. "Watching you pace like that is making my leg hurt."

The pilot cast him an uncertainly amused glance. They hadn't said much to each other after the conversation the previous night, so he hadn't been sure how Jordan was feeling toward him.

"I don't know why he's not here," Jor added, shaking his head. "Une would have called you if she were arresting him, right?"

Heero nodded.

"So let's go."

It took them about ten minutes to get to the bar, and Jordan wasn't hassled by Stephen as he moved into the hall outside the private sector. Heero was given a hard look, but nothing was said to them either way.

"How the hell am I supposed to know what you did with the money?" Jon demanded in an outraged tone.

"I _told_ you what I did with it!"

Heero froze.

"You _helped_ me pick the place out!"

Jordan gave his comrade a confused look and grabbed the handle. Before Heero could say anything, the man had shoved the door open.

"Don't you _ever_ knock?" Jon demanded of Jordan in a highly irritated tone.

"Of course not," Jordan retorted.

Terry Shifton was staring at Heero with huge eyes…then turned and ran toward the back of the room. Jon and Jordan watched in confusion as Heero caught the man before he could reach the far door and swung him around.

"You're not taking me!" Shifton shouted, fighting Heero hard. "I didn't do it!"

"What the…" Jon started.

"I think I'm screwed," Jordan noted, staring at the man with huge eyes as he turned to look at the kingpin. "Or you are."

"Let me…"

"Shut up and sit still," Heero snapped. "I'm not here for you."

Terry hesitated.

"I haven't talked to any higher ups in a week," Heero added sharply. "I have no idea if they're looking for you or anything."

"Why are you _here_?"

"To prove that Jon is innocent of hiring the assassin," Heero snapped. "He gave you the money for that."

"He gave me the money for a flat in Remington," Terry snapped, focusing around on the man. "You know that! I wasn't taking bribes!"

"I'm missing something," Jordan noted.

"You're missing several things, seeing as you don't own a television," Jon agreed. "If you bothered to pick up a newspaper, you might be a little more in the know. Not long after I gave him the money, he bought a new flat, and since he didn't document the source of the income, they decided he was being bribed for someone."

"I hate you," Terry whispered at Jon, rising to his feet and shoving Heero off.

"I'm not burning for something you did," Jon noted, quietly to him. "Jordan here told me not to give you the money and I did it anyway. You've made my life incredibly complicated. This was _not_ my fault."

"Jordan, huh?" Shifton looked the braided pilot over in disgust. "You read auras, little toy?"

Jordan raised his eyebrows. "Ain't nothin' little about me."

Heero rolled his eyes expressively toward the ceiling.

"Well, fuck you," Terry half whispered in his ear as he started for the main entrance.

Jordan watched him wordlessly as he walked from the room, then listened as the man started down the stairs.

"You gonna explain that one to me?" Heero asked seriously.

"He showed up this morning," Jon shrugged. "I didn't want him to see Jor because I thought he'd recognize him as Duo. I certainly remembered it when I realized who the rest of you demons were."

"It's the braid," Heero noted. "If he'd cut if off, he'd look completely different."

"So…cut it off for him," Jon suggested.

Heero focused on him in disbelief.

Jordan grabbed the end of his braid uncertainly, realizing the truth in what they were saying. He was realizing that people connected to Une surrounded him. There would be no way he'd escape her notice if someone noted a man about twenty-three with a four-foot braid. There was just no way he'd get away from it.

"I take it there's something more about it than what I've gotten," Jon noted, blinking.

"Let's…head back to the apartment," Jordan suggested, turning to focus on the pair. "Une's men'll storm here first off, and she'll call Heero while it's happening. If you're not here…"

Heero moved to the window, then smiled slightly. "Your predictions make me sick, you know that?"

"What?" Jon demanded, moving to the window himself. "What? It's just a van…"

"A swat van," Heero agreed. He focused on the man, then looked to Jordan. "Can you jump?"

"I can do anything I have to do," Jordan noted.

"Where's the back exit?" Heero added.

Jon was staring out the window as three of the vans pulled up in front of the club.

"That door," Jordan indicated the one Terry had been running to initially. "It leads to a fire escape. If we can jump far enough, we can hit the next building and go up."

"They'll have helicopters as soon as they realize we're gone," Heero muttered, considering the vans.

Jordan glowered at him before shoving Jon through the door.

"All _right_," Heero muttered, moving to follow quickly as the front door to the place slammed open. "We've got about three seconds to get out of sight."

"Thank god we can jump," Jordan agreed, grabbing Jon around the middle. He cried out loudly as he shoved off the wall they were standing by, and Jon himself shouted in shock as they were suddenly flying through the air. Jordan landed hard on the far escape and his wounded leg buckled under him. Heero was certain the doors were closed behind them, and used the same means himself to jump the distance.

If they weren't seen to be running, he could claim that they'd been at Rico's the entire time…and that would give Jon more credibility…

He was one of the top-most ranking officers, Heero noted to himself as they moved almost silently through the building. He was a top-ranking officer running from his _own_ men. The vans were marked with his numbers…they were the ones he himself had trained…

If it turned out that Jonathon Breer _had_ in fact, hired the assassin…Heero was going to kill him.


	9. Tension

**Tension**

"Why is your leg all bloody?" Chai hissed at Jordan as she moved into the bedroom, staring at her boyfriend's wounded leg. "What happened?"

"Shifton is claiming that he bought a condo with the money, which puts Jon back on the chopping block," Jordan returned, wiping at the wound somewhat slowly, since it hurt. He glanced up and studied her amethyst eyes, then shrugged a bit. "The swat was coming in the front door and we went out the back door. We seemed to have to move really fast after that."

"We also jumped fire-escapes," Heero agreed, moving into the room behind her. "You all right?"

"I'll be fine in a minute," Jordan reassured him, pressing the cloth against the wound. "What do we do now?"

"Wait for Une to call," Heero shrugged. "I play innocent-like, and we might have to take Jon in."

Jordan looked up to his old friend.

"If he runs and they realize it, they'll think he's the one who orchestrated it. Do you want that? Do you want us to _not_ be able to clear his name? Unfortunately, he might have to do some time while we figure out what really happened…if he didn't do it himself."

"I _told_ you…"

"I said if," Heero noted darkly. "I'm an officer of the law, Jordan. I have to look at it from all angles. Currently, the best plan is for him to go in."

Jordan ran his hands down his face, shaking his head.

"Listen," Heero muttered, moving around Chai to sit on the bed with the man. "I know you don't like this. _I_ don't like this…and I don't honestly get the feeling that he had anything to do with the attempt. But someone did, and the only lead we have right now is Breer. We'll have to look into his enemies, his dealings, and his own loyalties. The fact that you like him gives him more credibility than you know, but we can't use that because you'd have to go to Une. I've been duped before. You're the only one Une'll just listen to."

Jordan met his eyes, blinking at him.

"I know you don't want to," Heero added, "but…maybe you should come in with us."

"I don't…"

"I _know_ you don't want to, Jordan, but you don't _hear_ her. She _misses_ you! She's always _comparing_ us to you…it's annoying as all fuck, but I don't honestly think she'll court-martial…especially if you offer to help on this case…and it's Jon we're saving the ass of. I know he's not the most respectable primate in the zoo, but you consider him a friend, don't you?"

"Get me my pills," Jordan said quietly without looking at him. "My leg hurts and I should sleep."

Heero sighed, pulling some from his pocket as Chai went silently to get water. The silence continued as they left the room to look at the rest of the pilots.

"Well?" Quatre asked seriously.

"I put the idea in his head," Heero returned, moving to collapse into the chair as Trowa stood so Chai could have a seat. "The rest is up to him."

- -

"We've been here in Rico's apartment all day," Heero noted to Une. "He's got the charm, I'll tell you that much." The soldier grinned slightly, then sighed, looking to the ceiling. After a few moments he started to nod, then sighed. "You sent in swat? Why didn't you just _call_ me? That was…sometimes I swear you're stupid," he noted. "Oh yeah, get all pissed and hang up on me, jackass…what do you mean? Shifton says he used the money on a flat…and you…verified it?" Heero looked up to Jon, blinking. "You can account for every money exchange?"

"What's going on?" Jon demanded, staring at his friend in amazement.

Heero gestured him off, turning away…as the handle to Jordan's room started to turn. The soldier checked his watch, realizing that the painkillers would be wearing off again. "I know…it's just…there are some things you just _shouldn't_…"

Every thought in his mind ended as the door swung the entire way open. Every single thing he'd been deciding to say vanished.

"Holy shit," Wufei half gasped.

Jordan was standing tall and proud in the doorway…with his braid in his left hand, and scissors in his right.

The hair was no longer attached to his hand.

"Heero?" Une demanded.

Heero stared at Jordan a long moment, "I…I…gotta go," he muttered, hitting the end button as the former pilot moved from the room with his newly shorn hair brushing his shoulders.

"My god," Jon breathed, rising to his feet, "How high _were_ you?"

Jordan ignored his friend, tossing the braid at Heero's feet, then looking around to the others. "I need to go to a salon or something."

Heero bent over slowly, retrieving the long hair and running his eyes over the length of it.

"It looks good on you," Jon complimented happily as Chai moved around the room from the kitchen to blink at him in amazement.

"I'm going in with you," Jordan informed them all quietly. He pointed at the kingpin. "You tell me now if you did this deed or not," he said quietly. "Because if you did set up the assassination and I find out about it later, you'll wish you were dead."

"I…I wouldn't, Jordan," Jonathan breathed, realizing that something serious had happened.

"You don't understand the gravity of this, do you?" Quatre asked, moving around the man to take the braid from Heero. He looked it over a long moment, then looked to Jon again. "Duo was raised a street orphan. The nun of his orphanage braided his hair for him when he refused to let her cut it. No scissors have touched his hair for more than a trim in his entire life." The blond looked slowly to the now braid-less male. "I don't understand. How does cutting this off equate?"

"I was going to run," Jordan explained, moving from the room and messing with his hair. "Heero pointed out how much different I'd look without the braid and I realized how I could run…but Jon can't run. He can't disappear." The man's eyes moved slowly to Heero's face, studying him silently. "If Une will still accept my word, I can keep him from the worst of the punishments."

"Oh, she will," Tro noted, rolling his eyes. "God, you show up and you'll be her golden boy again."

"If only a bit skinnier and unhealthy looking," Quatre agreed, looking the male over.

That got him a look.

"What? Live in hell, look like hell…no offense intended."

Chai flashed him a slight grin, then crossed her arms. "What about me?"

"You'll come," Jordan returned. "I'll get the pair of us a room on the base. You'll be safe. I'll work this case and opt-out a legal way."

"What if she won't let you?" Chai demanded, feeling a slight surge of jealousy.

"Then we'll run again," Jordan focused on her, tilting his head. "She can't keep me if I don't want to stay."

"Your hair is absolutely frightening," Wufei muttered, moving around the others to tug at the shortened length of it. He shoved the former pilot bodily toward the kitchen, taking the scissors as he did so.

"And now you can cut hair?" Chai demanded almost sarcastically.

"Of course I can," Wufei muttered distantly, turning the man so the light was proper. "I have an idea for a look for him…one that will suit his personality if we get him a black leather jacket."

"I've got gel," Tro noted, turning and darting into the bedroom the four other pilots had their things in.

"Your hair isn't stiff as cement anymore, though, you sure it's strong enough?" Quatre's expression was naughty.

"Hahaha," Tro retorted, smacking the guy's forehead lightly as he passed again, offering the bottle to Wufei.

"It'll be so much easier to take care of," Wufei added, cutting quickly with the scissors, then grabbed a handful of it and yanked the guy's head back so they were meeting eyes. "And you won't look like a girl."

"Haha," Jordan retorted, kicking his old friend lightly in the knee.

"Why do I feel like I'm missing a lot more of this than the rest of you?" Jon asked almost nervously. "And what are we doing?"

"You're going to spend a week or two in the base internment," Heero returned. "You'll be able to wander the compound freely, but I suggest you call your generals."

Jon focused on him sharply.

"You won't want to do your…business…while on base, because every call you make will be recorded. You'll be allowed to do anything you want to, aside from leaving. You'll want to confine yourself to the more legal aspect of your business dealings…and as soon as we can figure everything out, you'll be released again. But we _have_ to find out who tried to kill Zechs before they do it again."

"I didn't do it," Jon muttered, looking down.

"Q?" Wufei asked.

"He's…sincere," Quatre returned, studying the man seriously. "But I can't go beyond that."

"So he might know how to block you?"

"It's happened before," Quatre agreed, looking around.

"Block you?" Chai asked as Jordan started cursing at Wufei.

"I'm an empath," Quatre explained, realizing that he hadn't told her the information before. "I can…sense…things from people."

"I didn't think that was real," Jon noted.

"It's not common, anyway," Quatre shrugged, "it gets me in more trouble than it helps me, too."

"There," Wufei decided, shoving Jordan a step forward…the group turned to focus on him and stopped again.

"Wow," Jon muttered, blinking several times.

"You see what I mean about the jacket?" Wufei appealed to the kingpin. "You've gotta see it…"

Chai sniggered evilly.

"That's not very reassuring, love," Jordan noted to her.

His hair was spiked in loose chunks, and much shorter than it had been. The effect of the gel was to stand bits of it on end randomly across his head. Coupled with his Streak Red pants and borrowed Streak Red shirt, he looked almost like a fashion model…if a bit less healthy looking…and limping.

"It looks good," Chai reassured him, moving forward to grab his hand and look him over with a slight smirk.

"Are we leaving tonight?" Heero asked, looking around.

"What about Carter?" Jon protested. "You were going to go take out Lamb for me."

Heero focused on him, raising an eyebrow.

"Well…come on, he's a real business rival…and he might still try to get me." The man looked from one side of the room to the other without moving his head. "…when I'm on a military base…surrounded by soldiers…"

Chai sniggered. "Give it up."

"But I want him gone legally!" Jon pouted at her. "If he goes away I'll get his section of town!"

"Actually," Jordan muttered to his friends, "that would behoove the entire area in the end."

"I'm not an assassin, Duo," Heero informed him.

"And I'm not Duo, Chance," Jordan returned sweetly.

Heero stopped, blinking at him. He'd thought Jordan had been looped when he'd muttered about his choice of names, and really hadn't expected it to be remembered, let alone used.

"I want to be Clyde," Quatre muttered around to everyone. He focused on Chai. "You can be Bonnie."

Trowa groaned, smacking his own forehead.

"What?" Chai asked, blinking at him uncertainly.

Quatre smiled sweetly at her, then looked around to his pained-appearing brethren. "I don't care what you say, that was funny, damn it."

"You just keep telling yourself that," Jordan reassured him. "You might even be able to believe it."

"I don't get it," Chai protested, frowning more.

Jordan sighed, meeting her eyes. "When we're heading into base, I'll tell you all about it, all right?"

She gave him a disgusted look, then focused on the others.

"We should leave in the morning," Jon noted. "I want to pack some stuff from my place and set my ducks in a row."

"Ducks stray," Wufei noted, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, but then the hunters get them," Jon made a placating gesture. "I have my ducks well trained."

Heero's cell phone started ringing and he jumped hard, raising it to his ear, then blinked several times. "I…think I have a surprise for you," he noted, studying Jordan seriously. "But you'll have to wait until morning. If you send the swat in here I'll give them a nice contradictory order that they won't be able to ignore. Just trust me." He listened a long moment, then snorted. "Yeah, see you bright'n fuckin' early…promise."

- -

"You said early," Une noted, slamming the file of papers she'd been leafing through closed without looking at the group of men that had entered her office. "When you say early, I expect you to follow through."

"Ah, you didn't appreciate my sarcasm?" Heero pouted at her, moving slowly forward as Jordan waited with butterflies in his stomach. "We had to stop at Streak Red."

Une raised her eyes to his in disbelief.

"It was Wufei's idea," Heero agreed with nothing in particular, dropping into the chair. "We would have been here an hour ago if not."

Une turned annoyed eyes onto Wufei, then noticed Chai and blinked at her…and focused on Jordan.

No one moved.

"Oh…my…god," she gasped, rising to her feet as she stared at him. "Oh my…Duo?"

The group moved away from him in mass as he studied his former commander wordlessly.

"You're…you're alive!" she choked, moving around the desk to throw herself at him and pull him into a tight hug. She pulled back when he didn't immediately respond, though, pulling his shirt up to stare at his stomach, then grab his biceps…and burst into tears.

In that one moment, she realized that he'd been living like a pauper to avoid _her_. He'd lost any semblance of weight he'd ever achieved...and looked _tired_. The expression on his face and set of his shoulders looked weighed down…and it was all because of her. She clung to him until he finally hugged her reassuringly, offering her a slightly wan smile as he pushed her away.

"Yeah…Rico decided to pay you a call," Heero noted to the woman, grabbing a piece of candy from the dish on her desk and unwrapping it with a single-minded focus. "I guess he and Breer are fairly good friends."

Une stopped completely, glancing to the man a moment, then looked back to Jordan. "You're nothing but skin and bones…where have you been? Oh…your hair…oh…Duo…" She turned to the door and threw it open, "Get two meals in here now!" she shouted to the building in general. "Get me some protein, assholes. Two servings!"

"Une…" Jordan started, moving toward her.

"I can't believe how thin you are!" she half shouted, then noticed he was limping and focused on him with a narrow-eyed accusatory look.

"I got shot the other day," he snapped before she could say more. "I'm not here for you to coddle me."

"You got shot?" she snapped, "Duo…"

"My _name_," he cut her off sharply, "is Jordan, Une."

She blinked at him.

"Never call me _Duo_ again. This is my girlfriend, Chai." He indicated her as Une blinked again, focusing on her as well. "We've been living in Angels," the former-soldier added. The words caused Une to freeze. "And like I said," he continued, "I'm not here for you to coddle me. I vouch that Jonathan Breer did not hire the assassin who attempted to take the life of Zechs Marquise. I vouch that he has no political motives whatsoever, and I'll prove it."

She mouthed at him, looking to the kingpin—Jon was also staring at him.

"To keep me…_and_ Breer around, you might want to get me and Chai a place to stay and get me my badges. Get your hands out of my money, too. I want a car, and get Chai on a health plan."

Chai was blinking at him, noting that manner in him that she'd always seen but never understood.

"But…Duo…" Une attempted to protest.

"_Jordan_," he informed her coldly, narrowing his eyes. "My name is _Jordan_."

She stared at him in disbelief as the door to the office swung open and a man entered quickly carrying two plates of food.

"Thanks," Jordan muttered, taking them both from him and passing one to Chai.

"That was…for you," Une muttered almost uncertainly.

Jordan passed the girl the silverware provided and turned to give the woman a long dark look. "Don't you have some calls to make? Or would you rather I piss you off again?"

Heero laughed evilly, sucking on his candy. "I _told_ you I had a surprise for you."

- -

Things weren't going like they were supposed to.

Une glowered at the sheet of paper she'd been making notes on. When Duo returned…Jordan. When _Jordan_ returned, he was supposed to sit with her and tell her his stories. He was supposed to make her start laughing helplessly with some stupid incident that had kept him from coming home. He wasn't supposed to have a _girlfriend_ and definitely not some docile perfect thing.

What kind of name was _Chai_ anyway?

She broke the tip of her pencil, tossing it across the room and grabbing another from her jar. Chai wasn't good enough for Duo. He needed some pretty debutante who'd stimulate him mentally and had the perfect chemistry for. He wasn't supposed to be with some Angels slut who would never be able to keep up to his mental abilities. What was he going to do when he lost interest in that little cutie? Send her on the street so she could go back home?

The second pencil broke and she stopped to control her irritation.

It didn't _help_ that she seemed perfect for him. She'd come out of nowhere, why did he have to want to be with _her_? There were plenty of better girls for Duo…Jordan…to get with.

Where the hell had _Jordan_ come from, anyway?

"Doesn't anyone _ever_ knock?" Une half-screeched as the door to her office opened.

"I don't knock," Jordan retorted, shutting the door behind himself and sliding his hands into his pockets. "That's one thing that'll never change."

Une blinked at him, again noting the shocking difference the length of his hair made.

"You okay?" he muttered, moving to drop into the chair across from her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't try to play coy with me," he ordered. "I saw the looks you were directing at Chai."

"What is she going to do when you leave her?" Une demanded, setting the pencil down pointedly as she studied him. "It's not fair of you to take her into luxury."

"Luxury?" Jordan retorted sarcastically, sitting forward. "And what are you talking about, me leaving her? What makes you think I'll leave her?"

The woman half-snorted, sitting back in her own seat as she gestured at him uncertainly.

"I've been with her for the past four years, Une…and we only just became a couple about a week ago."

Une blinked, taken aback by that.

"I'm not going to leave her."

"But she's _trash_!"

Jordan was on his feet before he realized what he was doing, stopping himself from throwing the jar of pencils in his hands at the woman as the white-hot flash of rage melted away. It didn't help that Une had flinched back from him—she _always_ flinched back from him….

She pursed her lips, looking away from him.

"I don't get you," he muttered, slamming the jar back onto the desktop. "I don't understand why you let me treat you like this…" he stopped that thought process before it could go further, shaking his head. "I'll be at my place, thanks for the nice little house."

She didn't look at him.

He started to turn away, then looked back to her until she met his eyes. The former soldier shook his head slightly, not quite meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"If you ever hit me," she told him quietly, "I swear I'll break your arm."

He snorted, meeting her eyes. "You always say that."


	10. A Long Road

**A Long Road**

Chai moved slowly through the small house that had been appointed to her and Jordan, touching the walls in a sort of awe. The man who had taken them to the place had informed Jordan that the house was about six months old. It wasn't large, a bit bigger than the apartment, actually, but it was clean. The man had said the walls were insulated and that the heat and utilities were part of the package.

They didn't have to pay anything as long as Jordan worked for the government.

The girl moved slowly down the hall from the entry, touching the door to the coat closet in disbelief before looking to the living room. It had a television that was connected to satellite, but no other furniture. There was a vid-phone port as well, not that she expected to get one any time soon. She'd just never lived in a house with the capability.

The woman moved slowly down the hall further, passed a small and efficient guest bedroom to the kitchen—a clean kitchen with unmarred walls and countertops. The cupboards had main staples supplied, and a small selection of pots and pans. The room was larger than the kitchen in the apartment had been. Across from that was a small bathroom with a tub and shower. The hall ended in a back door, and the master bedroom extended beyond the back wall of the kitchen.

It had it's own bathroom.

The girl wiped the tears from her eyes as she thought of Jordan's smile when he'd asked her what she thought of the place. He'd rubbed her back lightly and told her it was her house...that this was her house, and he would live in it with her as long as she allowed.

As long as _she_ allowed.

The front door clicked slightly before an electronic beep sounded. The door opened, and she looked down the hall as Jordan half-limped into the building and offered her a slight smile.

"What happened?" she asked, moving toward him as she noted his unhappy expression.

"Une said some shit that pissed me off," he returned darkly, pulling off the leather jacket Wufei had bought for him. He took a limping step to pull the coat-closet open and hung the thing easily before sighing and looking around. "We need to go shopping."

"Jon gave you the money?" she asked nervously.

"What?" he asked blankly, focusing on her, then offered her a smile and shook his head.

"Then...how are we going to..." she gestured toward the main of the building.

"I need to call the bank and activate my card," he explained, limping across the house to the kitchen and the pile of papers he'd set down when they'd first been shown into the place. "Then I'll have full access to my account."

"You have money?" she asked uncertainly.

He turned to give her a slightly impish grin, then shrugged. "Only a few thousand."

She stared at him.

"Oh, did I say thousand?" he asked her innocently, then laughed naughtily, "I mean that I can only take out a few thousand a _day_."

"What?"

He laughed more, pulling her to him and hugging her as he pressed his face into her ear and held her. He swallowed finally, pulling away just enough so he could see her. "As long as you love me," he informed her. "You will never want for anything."

"What?" she asked, smiling slightly at him.

"As long as you love me," he repeated seriously, "all that I have is yours...all that I am is yours."

The girl smiled slightly, kissing him, realizing he wanted reassurance. "I'll always love you, Jordan."

He swallowed, pressing his forehead to hers.

The electronic beep sounded again, and Jordan pulled away to focus on the front door as Heero led the group of five into the house. They were all looking around at it with interest.

"Can someone explain to me why we get shoved into an end wing of the main compound," Wufei asked, "and he gets his own house?"

"Because Une plays favorites," Heero reminded the guy. "You can't honestly tell me you don't remember him being brought up ten times every mission for the last four years. He's special, we're not; deal with it."

Chai sniggered at that, pulling away from Jor.

"If I'm so special," Jordan protested, "then why is my leg killing me?"

"Because the only prescription pain meds that the Remington hospital felt it safe to prescribe you were tranquilizers that no one would want to buy off you." He got a look for that, and the soldier pulled out a small orange bottle of something. "These won't knock you out or make you looped. They'll kill the pain, and you might have a harder time focusing, but they're nowhere _near_ as unpleasant as those tranqs were."

Jordan straightened, taking the bottle from him to read the label.

"I took your other prescription to a pharmacist friend I have," Heero explained. "At least, the copy of my receipt. He demanded why those were ever prescribed, then explained the selling thing to me when he realized where you were living."

"Wow...thank...you," Jordan was slightly startled. "I...I wouldn't have even thought about getting new meds."

"I know, that's why I did it for you," Heero patted his shoulder, then winked at Chai.

She grinned slightly at him.

"So here's the plan," Trowa added, moving forward. "We get the crap out of my van, then go shopping for more crap."

"Can't we shop tomorrow?" Chai asked, frowning very slightly at them all.

"He has appointments galore tomorrow," Tro explained. "For the next week, Jor's gonna be put through testing to see what level of command he's at. He'll be expected by seven and probably won't get home until five for several days. Not all of that will be the return shit, though. We're gonna have to grill Shifton and the assassin. He'll probably need to talk to Zechs, too...not to mention Relena or the other girls." The man frowned slightly, studying the female. "I'm afraid this week isn't going to be so pleasant for you, because you won't have anywhere to go or anything to do."

"I'll be here," Jon reassured her with some resignation. "I'm here for the duration anyway. They let me come out at eight and as long as I check in every two hours or so, we can go explore the base."

Chai nodded, then looked around.

"You killed my buzz," Jordan noted to Trowa, lowering his head very slightly to look up at the man. "Now I have to kick your ass..."

"You have to catch me first, limpy," Trowa noted, backing away warily. "You can't run all that fast on that leg of yours."

"Actually," Heero rubbed at his brow a bit, "he can run as fast as ever. We made normal time with _Jon_."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Jon demanded, wondering if it were an insult or a simple statement.

Trowa backed away a few more steps, his expression registering a sort of playful excitement. Jordan took a pointed step forward...and the pilot ran.

"He realizes I'm not gonna chase him, right?" Jordan asked the other four curiously, looking back to them.

Heero grinned, patting his back, then started for the door. "Let's get at it...limpy"

- -

"What a day," Chai muttered as Jordan threw the bedspread across the other new blankets they'd picked up. The girl sighed, moving to drop across the mattress. "Who'd have thought I'd live anywhere _but_ in Angels?"

"Me, for one," Jordan retorted, moving around the bed to sit down and kick his shoes off. "I knew as soon as I got my money, we could go anywhere. If it weren't for this shit with Jon, I'd be asking you where you wanted to go now."

"Can't you buy someone off?" she muttered, rubbing at her face. "That'd be the fastest means to the ends."

"And the most traceable, disrespectable, unfair mode of conveyance."

She blinked up at him.

"I have the same high and mighty morals as Heero, love. I just choose to ignore most of them."

Chai grinned at that, rolling her eyes.

"Tomorrow," he noted, "I'll wake up at six and set up that entertainment center...at least the tv, that way you and Jon can watch it." He pulled out his wallet and pulled out several bills, tossing them to her. "This way you can pick anything up at the canteen...be sure to take your name-tag, huh? We'll get cell phones the next time I can get away." He lay back on the newly made bed, "that way, we can talk whenever—meantime, I'll write down the rest of their numbers for you."

"They all have cell phones?" Chai asked, startled away from counting the money.

"Here-abouts, it's considered convenient," Jordan agreed. "There won't be any...any other," he corrected himself, "drug dealers on the entire base. I won't say everyone will be polite, but most will."

"I'll try not to spend this," Chai muttered, folding the money up.

"What? No!" he muttered, sitting up to look at her. "That's _yours_...to spend. I'll set you up your own savings account in case we go sour, but this money is just to play with."

She stared at him.

"Baby," he muttered, moving to lay across her, "I _have_ money...I have a _lot_ of money...we _aren't_ going to live like we did in Angels _ever_ again."

Chai realized that her eyes were full of tears, blinking at him several times.

"Once we get settled in," he added, shifting around on the mattress to lay more normally with her, "we can talk about if you want to work or not...and I don't mean brothel shit, either. I mean a real genuine job. You can get one around here...you don't have to, but you can if you want to."

Tears started trailing down her cheeks as she realized just _how_ different her life was going to be.

He smiled, kissing her gently and wiping the tears. "I want to make you happy...above everything else...whatever you want."

"But _why_?" she breathed, raising her head to look at him properly. "I've never done anything for you...shit, Jordan, we haven't even had sex."

"Because I love you," he repeated, touching her cheek and smiling slightly. "You had no one, and at first I was just helping...but then I got to know you. I want you safe, I want you happy, and above all, I want you _with_ me...just exist with me." He wiped her tears again, kissing her lightly. "Everything will get better," he reassured her. "Some day you'll wake up, and Angels will just be a dream. Some day you'll be driving some fancy little sports car to the salon while I pick up our boys from soccer, and you'll stop at some stop light and realize that I've loved you so much for so long that nothing else really matters..."

Chai had to giggle at that. "Now you're just getting romantic."

"Am I?" he muttered, kissing at her chin. "I thought girls liked that."

"I didn't say to stop," she noted, tilting her head slightly. "I just wanted to make sure you realized it."

"I was completely serious," he protested, kissing at her chin.

"Who said we'd only have boys?" she protested, meeting his eyes a moment.

"I didn't say _who_ was going to the salon with you. The boys were just at soccer."

Chai started giggling, kissing him back. "So tell me, Mr. Sweet-talker, where are we living when our boys are at soccer and I'm taking our girls to the salon?"

"Mm..." he kissed at her ear as he thought. "That's a very good question..."

- -

"_Jordan_!"

Jordan jumped hard, darting across the living room toward the garage-door. He slammed through it...and realized Chai was still squeaking.

"We have our _own_ washer and dryer!" she squeaked, jumping at him. "Our _own_!"

The man took a moment to catch his breath as he looked the room over a bit wildly—there was no danger in it, and no car. There were storage shelves, a washer and dryer, and a lawn mower.

Well if _that_ wasn't a hint or anything...

"It's ours, right?" she asked, pulling away from the hug to stare into his eyes. "It's here, so we get to keep it, right?"

Jordan started laughing weakly, pulling her into another hug. "_Never_ scream for me like that if you're not in danger." He laughed even more, holding her tightly. "God I thought I was going to piss my pants..."

She laughed a bit. "What?"

"I think you need your hearing checked," he muttered, pulling away to meet her eyes. "You ask me that _all_ the time."

She laughed more. "Sorry...I was just excited."

"I noticed," he retorted sardonically.

She giggled, looking to the set of machines again, shaking her head. "It's like...my wildest dreams come true..."

"A washer and dryer?" he muttered. "Your wildest dreams included a washer and dryer?"

Chai laughed, smacking his arm as she looked back to the set. "They match...they're brand new..." She ran loving hands over the things, pulling the top open on the washer to blink inside.

"Watch out or I might get jealous," he teased, moving across the floor to look in himself, then pull out the plastic that had been dropped inside of it. Whoever set the things up had half-assed the cleaning job.

"At least now I can get your attention," she muttered, sticking her tongue out and biting it slightly. "Just say I'm gonna do laundry."

"Oh, there are _other_ ways of getting my attention..."

She laughed and smacked him before he kissed her. "You have to go to work."

He pouted at her a moment, then laughed, pulling the dryer open to look inside it. He pulled out that trash and threw it toward the center of the garage floor. "Be sure to check in the dishwasher before you run it," he muttered. "You don't have to do the dishes, but if you do...and don't be freaked out if people show up and start asking for me. Just tell them all that I'll be home around six. Some of'em might decide to hang around with you, okay?"

"You're expecting people?" she asked blankly.

He grinned at her. "I vanished without a trace five years ago. You saw how Heero clung to me—he's a slightly special case, but most of my friends from before are gonna show up." He stepped into the house, then smirked slightly at turned to look at her. "A couple guys, Wayne Miller and Logan Doll might show up. Those are the bi guys Heero was talking about. I'm not sure they've grown up, but I'm not sure how much. If they start doing anything to embarrass you, just let them know. They like to fuck with people, but if you ask them not to do something they usually listen. They might be frank with you," he added, smiling slightly. "I don't care what you tell them, but you _can_ ask them to move on."

"Sounds amusing," she noted with a grin.

He winked, starting for the living room again. "You have _no_ idea."

- -

Jordan's attention wandered out the window as he looked toward his house and Chai. He wasn't sure if she'd be setting up the stuff they bought, or just messing around with Jon. He was wondering if Wayne and Logan had shown up or not, because they would probably insist on setting up the shelving...

"Jordan?"

Jordan turned his attention back on the man who'd been lecturing him.

"Did you hear me?" the guy demanded, slightly exasperated.

"Of course I heard you," Jordan retorted, raising an eyebrow. "I wasn't listening, but I heard you."

He got a very level look.

"I got shot," Jor reminded the guy. "I'm on meds that make it incredibly hard to focus for more than an hour at a time. We've been sitting here for two hours with no break."

"Great, now he won't shut up," Heero muttered, looking to the ceiling.

"What's he gonna do?" Jordan asked curiously. "Stop me when I walk out? Come on, Chance, this is the exact bullshit we took off from."

Heero stopped, blinking at him with wide eyes.

"Are you threatening to run, Mr. Maxwell?"

"Hey, he didn't change his last name, did he?" Tro muttered, blinking around to Quatre.

"I made no promises, sir," Jordan said quietly. "I'm here to help get my friend off the chopping block."

"Your guilty friend, you mean?" the guy asked.

Jordan rose to his feet as Trowa, Wufei, and Quatre ooed a bit theatrically.

"You know, I didn't think he was stupid," Heero noted to his comrades. "I knew he was a blow-hard, but I honestly didn't think he was stupid..."

The man was realizing that Jordan was about to fight, backing down slightly with narrowed eyes.

"I'm done talking to you," Jordan informed him, moving around the table he'd been sitting at. "I'll catch you later this week or something."

"Where do you think you're going?" the man demanded darkly.

Jordan, who was nearly to the door, stopped to look at him. They stared at each other a moment before the limping man turned slightly to focus on the man properly. "Do you really want to try me? Do you really want to _test_ your authority? I don't know you, I don't care about you, and I really don't care about the so-called proper care of weaponry you're trying to preach about. That's fine for infantry, but I've been through two wars with a Gundam, if you think I can't upkeep a simple M.S. or even regular hand weaponry, you're sadly mistaken."

The guy blinked at him.

"You coming or what?" Jor added to the others. "I'm taking the heat for this one."

"Is that an order?" Heero noted pointedly.

"Yes," Jor agreed. "I believe that is."

Heero grinned, rising to his feet happily and collecting the paperwork they'd been given.

"No offense intended, of course," Tro told the now silent man. "But we have to follow orders."

"And if I ordered you to sit back down?" the guy demanded.

"Jordan outranks you," Heero explained. "And we do, too."

The man's eyes narrowed.

"Sorry," Heero almost sounded sincere as he followed Jordan from the room.

"They're sorry," Tro noted as Wufei and Quatre followed as well, then met the guy's eyes. "But I'm not...I just want to make that clear."

The five of them left the building.

- -

"How much you wanna bet they're engaged, Wayne?" Logan asked his companion as the pair of men lounged in the front door of the house.

"Not too much," Wayne returned, looking to Chai's hands. "She's not wearing a ring."

"But according to Une he was living in Angels," Logan noted, also studying her hands. "If he was living like the rest of them, then he probably couldn't afford a proper ring."

"But according to Bass, they were shoppin' last night," Wayne pressed. "He'd have bought her one if they were."

Chai grinned at that.

"We could ask her," Logan suggested, looking her over with interest. "And she might also tell us where jack-ass major _is_."

"But she might just as well not know," Wayne countered.

"That's true," Logan considered it a moment.

"You could ask me my name," Chai suggested, looking between them. They had a charming sort of rudeness that was belied by their charisma.

"Yeah, but you might not tell us," Wayne returned, his face twisting into a frown. "Duo might have told you not to say anything."

"_Jordan_," she corrected, "might have also told me that he didn't care what I said."

Wayne led Logan into the house around her, frowning at the entertainment center, pile of plastic and boxes, and pieces of couch scattered across the living room.

"You get the garbage, I'll get the boxes," Logan ordered, then turned to look at Chai. "He did say we'd show up, didn't he?"

"He wasn't sure if you would or not," she agreed.

The men met eyes and shrugged at each other, then started gathering up bits and pieces.

"You don't have to do that," she protested, feeling slightly bad.

"Oh, it's nothing," Wayne reassured her, carrying an armload through the front door.

"We're glad to help a pretty lady," Logan agreed, winking a bit suggestively at her before following.

Chai blinked after them.

"Where do you want the couch?" Wayne asked a moment later as he moved into the room. "We'll impress you with our muscles and you can make us something to eat...if you cook. You could order out if you'd prefer."

Chai giggled at that, not sure what to say to him.

"You could help us if you wanted," Logan agreed. "No offense, but I think you'd probably get in our way."

The girl laughed again, then pointed. "I was thinking the couch should be lined up around here. It has plates to hold it into one piece underneath, too."

"All right then, pretty lady," Logan offered her his charming smile. "You get out of our way, and we'll be all manly for you."

Chai started laughing again.

"Or for Duo," Wayne noted, looking to his friend.

"But Duo's never really appreciated it before," Logan protested. "She might."

"Good point...so let's aim for impressing her and have the secret agenda be him?"

"You're horrible!" Chai protested, though she was still laughing.

Logan winked at her mischievously. "Anything to make you smile, pussycat."

- -

Jordan pulled into the driveway, wondering whose car was parked in front of the house as he slid from the driver's seat. He could hear Chai's disbelieving laugh through the open front door and windows, and then a mild protest.

Well, at least she was getting along with whoever it was.

"You're embarrassing him!" the girl protested. "Jon, don't just _take_ that!"

"Trust me, pretty-lovely," a familiar voice reassured her. "He wants to take it."

Chai squeaked a protest.

"That's just _raw_," Jordan protested, moving through the door to look between Wayne and Logan reprovingly. "Show some _class_ already..."

"Duo!" Wayne squeaked, launching himself from the back of the couch at the newly returned male. "Oh my god! Your hair!" The ex-pilot was nearly knocked backwards a second time as Logan joined, and for a long moment all Jordan could do was attempt to hold his balance while the two men practically _climbed_ him and yammered.

When the greeting had died down, Jordan focused on the living room and grinned slightly. The stereo, vid-phone, television and music discs had all been set up. The couch was set up across the living room. There were piles of paper plates on the coffee table, and a few cups scattered around the room.

"Wow, you set up my shit?"

"We wanted to impress you," Wayne agreed.

"Wayne!" Logan protested.

Jordan laughed happily, giving them both hugs before looking around to Jon. "They haven't given you too much shit, have they?"

Jon grinned at him, slightly embarrassed.

"If we had he wouldn't be here," Logan reassured him. "We were nice to him."

Chai giggled naughtily, moving between the two to kiss him happily.

"Now _this_ has potential," Logan noted to Wayne, looking between the area below the pair's lips.

Wayne laughed evilly.

Moving to pull away, Chai was taken aback when Jordan turned her and backed her against the wall as the two males both started laughing, then pulled away from her with sparkling eyes to focus pointedly on Logan. "You mind?"

"Of course not," Logan reassured him sweetly. "I _never_ mind."

Jordan laughed evilly himself, then shoved the guy off, stretching and looking around with a nod. "It worked, I'm impressed."

"Told you," Wayne muttered.

"One thing, though, gentlemen," he added to them both seriously. "Stop calling me Duo. My name is Jordan now."

"Are you hungry?" Chai muttered, grabbing one of his belt loops and pulling him toward the kitchen. "There's some pizza left if you want."

Jordan's mouth suddenly watered as the thought crossed his mind. "I haven't had pizza in years," he noted, studying her eyes.

She smiled, moving aside so he could move into the kitchen itself and gather up his cup and plate.

"So, Jon," Wayne muttered in a lowered voice, "what are the chances of you being into guys?"

Jordan sniggered as Jon guffawed loudly.

"Don't be so quick to judge, cowboy," Logan protested.

"He's bi, dandelion," Jordan noted loudly.

"I haven't heard that one in _years_!" Logan's tone was very pleased.

"So...you busy tonight?" Wayne muttered.

"You two are horrible," Chai noted, moving to kiss Jordan again. "They showed up earlier at about two," she explained. "They helped me set up the living room, then I ordered the pizza," she indicated the packages with a grin. "It was so weird to have plenty of money to pay for it, and not have to worry about someone shoving a gun in my face for doing it."

He smiled, kissing her again. "Think Jon can get'em out of here for a little bit?"

"Jordan," she muttered.

"I heard that," Wayne noted, moving around the wall to give them raised eyebrow looks.

Jordan laughed evilly, focusing on his pizza again with one hand wrapped around Chai.

"I'm just curious to know what her _name_ is," Logan agreed.

Jordan snorted, not really surprised. "Her name is Chai."


	11. A New Life

**A New Life**

"You _expect_ me to believe that some man who's _never_ shown up on _any_ political play-board would take the _time_ to find an _assassin_?" Jordan demanded angrily of the actual assassin. "You expect me to believe that he'd want the most _human_ member of the E.C. _dead_?"

The guy stared at Jordan in dismay a long moment, then shook his head.

"So Jonathan Breer wouldn't want to kill off Marquise," Jordan returned, moving around the table to rest against it beside the man. "But you already said Shifton didn't really hire you, so who _did_?"

The man blinked several times, obviously thinking fast.

"You make me sick," Jordan noted, pacing away as he realized he'd been on his feet for more than an hour. He dropped into a chair, feeling a vague throb from his leg-wound. "If you had any brains you would have noted how easy it is to _find_ assassins in lower Angels."

"You really shouldn't give him ideas," Quatre broke in quickly, crossing the room to stand next to his old friend.

"I never _saw_ who hired me," the man snarled, glaring between the pair of them. "I got a letter, a picture, and a check."

"May we see the letter?" Quatre asked politely, meeting his eyes.

"So what do you have against Breer and Shifton?" Jordan muttered, focusing on him.

"What?" the guy demanded, then shook his head slightly. "I don't have the letter, I burned it."

"And the check, evidently," Wufei muttered, moving across the interrogation room with a holder of coffee cups. He passed them around to the men, moving to sit in a chair at the end of the table. "Which means the money didn't mean anything."

"It was an _envelope_, okay?" the guy snapped irritably. "The cash was in an envelope! I burned the envelope and the cash processed through my bank."

"That's handy," Wufei muttered, then nodded at Jordan. "You're wanted down the hall."

"By who?" Jordan asked darkly, narrowing his eyes.

"Yuy," Wufei retorted. "Get out of here."

Jordan sighed heavily and started for the door, realizing his leg was giving more than it had been as he went. He pulled the door closed behind himself and leaned against the wall, taking all weight off the wounded extremity.

Sometimes he hated his lack in forethought.

He limped down the hall carefully, turning into the watching room as the various people gathered for the task looked up at him.

"Here," Heero muttered, extending his hand with two small pills. "These are plain ibu. They should help take the bite off."

"Talk in the hall," someone noted pointedly.

Heero moved across the room and waited for Jordan to join him before closing the door and offering an arm for support. "You need to take it a little easier," he admonished, studying the guy's leg. "Are you bleeding?"

"It only just started hurting," Jordan sighed, taking the two pills with the coffee Wufei had given him. "I'm sorry, I'm just upset."

"You have a point, though," Heero agreed, looking around until he spotted a bench. "Come on. Initially he got a mysterious phone call," the soldier added, sitting next to his friend. "That was followed by a credit transfer—that's the only thing we can verify. He had a large credit transfer before the attack. As far as we've been able to tell, the money was transferred directly from one of Shifton's random accounts. According to the paper, though," the man added, thinking, "the money was just filtered through the account."

"From?"

"Another man's account," Heero shrugged. "Before that it was another...whoever did it shifted the money through Shifton's entire party. Either Shifton is really smart, or has nothing to do with it."

"When do I talk to Shifton?"

"You don't," Heero returned, raising an eyebrow. "You and he were about to go at it because of Breer. Une told me that Shifton admitted he and Jon had a relationship. There's footage of them running all over Remington looking at different flats before deciding on the one Shifton bought. If you get in that room with him, something will be bound to come up about Jon. I don't know if it was just a summer thing or a vacation thing, or what, so I'd rather not have you rile him up over it if they had a bad split...or no split."

"But wouldn't that be better?" Jordan muttered, meeting his eyes. "If they had a bad split or aren't done yet, having me in there and familiar with Jon...I mean, he'd be agitated and less likely to remember fine details."

"I believe you, honestly I do...but what if Jon _did_ do it?"

"But _why_ would he?" Jordan half-whispered, as he studied Heero's eyes. "Zechs hasn't done anything to interfere with his business, so he's not likely to..."

"Jon ships drugs all over the world, Jordan," Heero reminded him gently. "He has _tons_ of contacts on every continent and colony. You honestly think hiring an assassin to take out a man in power would be beyond him? You know as well as I do that he had those people who tried to mug us killed..."

"He told me he didn't do it," Jordan insisted, frowning slightly. "You've heard what he said before, he wouldn't _lie_ to me."

"But he would, Jor," Heero muttered, looking down. "Fear of losing a loved one is the best reason I can come up with for a lie...and I _have_ morals."

"You're trying to piss me off, aren't you?" Jordan accused. "You just want to push us into a fight over him."

"I want you to accept the fact that there's a _vague_ possibility your friend made a mistake," Heero snapped, rising to his feet. "You're dismissed. Go home and relax for a few hours."

Jordan rose slowly to his feet, staring at Heero in disbelief.

"I outrank you because I've had four years consistent service," Heero half-threatened in a low voice. "You need to go home and meditate or something, because your control of your temper has never been that reliable. You're not going to beat the crap out of this dumb-ass so he gets himself moved to another facility."

"Sir," Jordan snarled, saluting.

Heero crossed his arms, watching as his old friend limped down the hall, then shook his head. _Check one more off the list of things I never wanted to do but did anyway,_ he noted silently to himself as the guy disappeared. He swallowed slightly, moving back into the observation room.

"He's going back in there?" a woman asked blankly, looking past the soldier.

"No, he's heading back to his house for a break," Heero reassured her. "He's pressed what he's got to the limit."

"So you got an email, a newspaper page number, and a temporary credits card?" Wufei muttered from the interrogation room.

Heero sighed. "God, we know he's lying, why does he keep making shit up?"

"To keep us from figuring out the truth, I'd imagine," someone returned helpfully.

"Maybe he's like a rodent with a nine second memory," Trowa suggested. "Maybe he honestly thinks he hasn't told us before."

Heero grinned, meeting the guy's eyes.

Tro shrugged. "It's a thought."

"Hush."

- -

Jordan half-gasped as his leg screamed in pain, shuddering slightly with the tension of it. He took several deep breaths, trying to relax his muscles.

The idea of putting weight on it made him shudder harder, but he _had_ to sleep. He _needed_ his muscles to relax if he wanted the wound to heal at all.

He couldn't take anymore of the drug Heero had gotten him until morning, and there would be no point loading himself with over-the-counter meds.

Jordan slid of the mattress, and Chai turned to look at him. "What's wrong?" she asked, rubbing at her eyes.

"I have to use the bathroom," he replied as normally as he could, shutting the door firmly behind himself before collapsing over the sink. He wanted to shout and curse, or maybe even puke, but he didn't want to wake Chai.

He'd known the whole walking around all day and then pacing the interrogation room thing would catch up with him, but he hadn't realized how bad it would be...and it was bleeding again.

"Shit," he gasped, reaching down to pull up his pant-leg. He ripped off the protective bandaging, then hobbled over to sit on the toilet itself, digging out a black washrag. The color choice had been inspired by him knowing he'd get bloody _some_ time. He didn't want to ruin Chai's towels, so he'd worked a bit of black into the bathroom's decor...

The distraction of running over the color scheme only worked until he had the rag pressed to the wound. From the toilet, he could reach the medicine drawer, and he dug into quietly to pull out the tranqs. He stared at the bottle a long moment, then popped it open and downed two. He hobbled to the sink for a glass of water, then straightened slightly to dig out another bandage before limping painfully into the kitchen, hitting the auto-dial button his vid, and waiting.

"Jordan," Heero muttered, blinking at the screen in a way that suggested his eyes weren't inclined to remain open. "It's two in the morning...why are you calling when we work at _seven_?" The guy blinked as his eyes focused better, realizing that Jordan's face was sweaty and his eyes a bit glazed. "Are you all right?"

"My leg was killing me," Jordan explained. "I haven't slept yet..."

"So you wake me up?" Heero groaned a bit as he heard Trowa's bedroom door open. "That's nice."

"Well, yes," Jor agreed, resting his entire weight on his left leg and the counter. "I took the tranqs."

"What?" Trowa demanded, moving up behind the other soldier.

"I can't take anymore of the ones Heero got me until six," Jordan explained. "And O.T.C. drugs aren't gonna do me much good. I need to sleep, so I took the tranqs. I'm not gonna be able to get up on time."

Trowa ran a hand down his face, then looked to the screen again. "Are you all right? Is she?"

"She was sleeping," Jordan returned, "she's probably awake now, though."

"Why did you wait this long?" Heero muttered.

"Let me see him," Quatre ordered.

Heero and Trowa moved away from the screen so Quatre could get a good look at his friend.

"I thought that didn't work over the vid-lines," Jordan muttered, then started to shake his head. "I have to get my weight off this, guys..."

"He thought it would go away," Quatre muttered, turning to look at Wufei. "Who's gonna bite the bullet and tell Une?"

"We can draw straws for it in the morning," Heero muttered. "Let's all just go back to sleep..."

"Sorry for waking you up," Jordan apologized to them all, leaning forward more. "I just thought someone there should know."

"It's fine," Heero reassured him. "Go ahead and go lay down...we can go talk to the doctor tomorrow after the tranqs wear off. Maybe they'll figure out a way to keep this from happening again."

"Sorry, guys," Jordan repeated, then hit the button to end the call. He really hadn't meant to wake everyone up, just Heero. He limped back to the room, then drug himself onto the bed, gasping in pain again.

"Are you all right?" Chai muttered, rolling over to touch his face.

"It really hurts," Jordan explained, swallowing a bit. "I took the tranqs...I should crash soon."

"All right," she muttered, laying against him and running her fingers along his face. "You shoulda told me it was hurting that bad," she reprimanded. "I coulda helped you relax earlier."

"I didn't realize how bad it was until you were asleep," Jordan replied, gritting his teeth together. "It's so stupid that a dumb flesh-wound like this is just knocking me on my _ass_..."

"You're not fighting for your life," she reassured him. "That kind of things makes pain vary..."

"I guess," he admitted, relaxing slightly and leaning against her. He smiled slightly. "I love you."

"I don't think I'm ever gonna get tired of hearing you say that," she muttered.

He kissed her hand, smiling slightly. "We'll see."

- -

Wufei sighed as a warm breeze blew across the base, snuffing out his cigarette and leaning against the wall to stare at the sky. Clouds had rolled in, which was slightly odd for a June evening.

"There you are," Morgan muttered, moving up around the edge of the building. "I thought you'd ran off for a while. Where have you been today?"

"Didn't you hear?" Wufei muttered, nodding at the guy. "Maxwell is back."

"I heard it, but I didn't believe it," the guy muttered, digging into Wufei's pocket for the pack of coffin nails. "So you're busy with him, I take it?"

"Off and on," Wufei agreed, offering the guy the lighter. "He came back because he's friends with Jonathan Breer."

"Figures, low life to low life, huh?" the guy shook his head.

Wufei focused on him in disbelief. "You did _not_ just say that."

"Huh?" Morgan exhaled and blinked at him.

"Jordan has been my friend since I was _fifteen_," Wufei snapped. "Don't say shit like that about him around me."

"Oh...sorry," Morgan took another drag, watching as Wufei dug out another cigarette. "I don't know him, though, so I'm just going off the shit I hear."

Wufei spat derisively, offended and wanting to change the topic. Morgan had a way of getting under your skin if he found a sore spot. "What the hell are you doing back here, anyway?"

"I went inside and Tro said he didn't know where you were."

"Oh," Wufei sighed, studying the cherry on his cancer-stick. "I meant to call you and warn you I wasn't showing up for lunch, but I got busy."

"You gonna introduce me to Maxwell?" Morgan asked curiously, shifting around where he was standing. "Any of us?"

"I might," Wufei conceded, thinking the idea over. "But he'll kick your ass for slight offenses. When he draws a line, he makes it deep."

"Hence going a-wall for five years, huh?"

Wufei nodded, inhaling as he thought. "Fuck, I've had a long day."

"Get a girl," the guy muttered. "It's a nice stress relief."

"Haha."

"You laugh, but I'm serious," Morgan studied Wufei a moment and shrugged. "Wayne or Logan might make a bid."

That got the soldier to laugh. "They wouldn't be nearly faithful enough."

Morgan sniggered. "But they'd _pretend_..."

Wufei laughed more. "Shit...I don't think so...somehow, they don't hold my interest."

"And it's _they_, not just one or the other."

Wufei laughed more, gesturing toward the sky. "It's gonna rain."

"You won't melt," Morgan reassured him. "Your pretty-boy might, but you won't."

"Quatre?" Wufei asked blankly, meeting his friend's eyes.

Morgan laughed again. "Yeah, sugar melts with water."

They both laughed at that as Wufei groaned, and then stood a long while talking about different topics. Morgan was an external friend Wufei had picked up that had a definite "aquired taste" aspect. Tro was fine with anyone, but the guy irked Heero for some reason. Quatre was offended by the stupid remarks the guy'd make, too. He avoided him.

That made Wufei wonder if Jordan would get along with him...and then wonder when he'd started thinking of his old friend as Jordan instead of Duo. There was definitely something about losing the braid that made the new name more plausible...

"...and you've only been half here for the duration of my company," Morgan summed up his story, "so I'm gonna go set your grass on fire and find something better to do."

"What?" Wufei demanded, focusing on him sharply.

"You're in never land, boy," Morgan retorted, snuffing out his cigarette as he exhaled. "You're not really listening to what I have to say, so I'm gonna go do something else."

"Morgan," Wufei protested, putting out his to give chase. "Come on, I told you I had a long day."

"I know," the guy reassured him. "You can go back inside and veg out with those others, huh? Just come to lunch tomorrow."

"Come on," Wufei protested, still following. "Give me a break..."

Morgan turned to give him a very level look, then smirked slightly. "Take me to him."

"To Jordan?" Wufei asked, blinking.

"No, Maxwell."

"He _is_ Jordan," Wufei noted.

"Duo?"

"Yeah."

"Wait...what?" Morgan's expression was confused.

"He changed his name to Jordan and gets pissed when you call him Duo," Wufei explained. "And what do you mean, take you to him?"

"You've ditched on me for three days, I think I should get to see _why_," Morgan retorted.

"You're worse than a girlfriend," Wufei snapped at him, turning back to the building. "I have to get my keys."

Morgan snickered. "You're not getting any benefits from doing what I say."

"Yeah," Wufei muttered from the door. "Like I said. Worse than a girlfriend."

Morgan started laughing.

- -

"I got the tab," Quatre reassured the women he was sitting with. "You guys go ahead and take off. I'll finish eating and head back to my place."

"You want us to come over?" Varia asked curiously as Gina gathered up her jacket.

"Not tonight," Quatre muttered, sitting back slightly. "I'm gonna go home and crash."

"You work too hard," Gina accused, moving around the table to kiss his cheek. "You're too stressed. Take this weekend off and we'll get you drunk again."

Quatre smirked at that and shook his head. "Maxwell is back. If I go, I'll have the full troop."

"What's wrong with that?" Varia asked curiously.

Quatre grinned at her. "I'll run it by them and see what they say. You realize I mean the _full_ troop, right? Wayne, Logan, Mor...all of them."

"I thought you didn't like Morgan?"

"I don't, but Wufei does. Wufei wouldn't leave him out—Relena and'em will probably show up, too."

"The prospect of getting him drunk at a bar isn't looking so good," Varia noted to Gina. "Maybe we should just make Paris kidnap him."

"Paris won't do that," Gina returned, studying the blond.

"Don't try and kidnap me," Quatre reprimanded them, grinning a bit. "Especially don't make Paris do it. He's too nice, I don't want to hurt him."

The girls grinned at each other, then at him and shrugged. "We'll think of something to get you away from your cling-ons."

"I like my cling-ons," he protested.

"But we're prettier than they are," Gina gave him a cute smile.

"You have a point there," Quatre noted, considering it, then grinned at them. "I'll try and come over. Jor has a girlfriend so they might be doing something."

"Jor?" Varia asked curiously.

"Jordan," Quatre agreed. "Maxwell. He doesn't go by Duo anymore."

"Oh," the girls blinked at each other, then looked back to him. "Girlfriend?"

"Yeah, sweet little thing," Quatre agreed. "I'm almost jealous, but they've been friends for the last five years or something."

"So he had her the entire time he was gone?"

Quatre nodded, rolling his eyes slightly. "They were in Angels."

- -

Deb grinned, kissing Trowa. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"You should just stay the night," Trowa returned easily, standing up to kiss her more.

"I have to work in the morning," she protested, laughing and trying to fend him off. "It's an early shift, too. I can't quit."

"You should anyway," he muttered, pressing his lips to her throat. "I think it sounds like a good idea."

"And if I did it," she muttered, pushing him off with a vaguely annoyed look, "you'd reconsider in the morning. You're absolutely impossible, you know that?"

Trowa laughed, kissing her again. "Fine, you can leave..."

"I don't think your friends like it when I stay the night, either," she added, thinking of the long-suffering looks the guys had given him behind her back.

"They're just jealous," Tro retorted.

"We're going to Jor's," Wufei informed them as Morgan followed him into the main room. "I got my keys, so..."

"All right, later," Trowa muttered. Deb grinned, kissed Trowa's cheek, then followed the other two out the door.

Trowa hesitated, looked around, then darted after the males. "Wait for me!"


	12. Utopian Society

**Utopian Society**

"And this is the infamous...Jordan," Wufei muttered, winking at Chai as he and Morgan passed her.

"We haven't had the final word if he's changed his last name or not," Trowa agreed, kissing Chai's cheek before looking the man over. "You still pissed at Yuy?"

Jordan shrugged. "I came home," he glanced to the girl, "took a nap...sat around a while and ate..."

"He's pissed that Heero did it," Chai reassured the males, moving around to offer a slightly uncertain hand to Morgan. "I'm Chai."

"I'm Morgan," he agreed, smiling at her. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

She smiled slightly.

Morgan stepped by her respectfully and offered his hand to Jordan. "You're stealing my partner in crime away from me, you realize that don't you?"

Jordan looked between Trowa and Wufei, then back to the guy. "Which one?"

Morgan laughed.

"Not me," Tro returned, moving to sit down on the couch. "Morgan and I tend to butt heads if we're in the same room for too long."

"You're the head-strong jackass," Morgan replied easily, looking to Wufei.

"I think we should change the topic," Wufei muttered, frowning slightly at his friend.

"What's going on?" the re-instated soldier changed topics smoothly. He knew enough about Trowa and Wufei to see the potential explosion. "Something up, or did you just miss my company?"

"I did miss it," Wufei noted, smirking slightly and gesturing for his friend to sit. "I don't anymore, but I did...not entirely sure why, though..." he pretended to think.

Jordan grinned at that, extending his hands so Chai moved to sit in his lap. "I _could_ have ducked out of that building without letting you see me."

"And we could have hauled you down to Une first thing," Wufei agreed.

"And I coulda been part of a hot threesome," Chai noted, raising an eyebrow. "What's the point?"

Jordan laughed evilly.

"What, now?" Tro asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Adonis," Chai rolled her eyes slightly. "Heero made an entertaining offer before you lot joined us at the table."

"Seemed to include voyeurism," Jordan noted, thinking back a moment. "He got a new fetish, or was he just playing?"

Trowa and Wufei looked at each other, blinking.

"Heero's gay for all we know about his personal affairs," Morgan noted, sitting back slightly. "We see a few of his friends now and again, but they never come onto the base and he's always got a shit-eatin' grin as he struts up the way."

Jordan met Chai's eyes in amusement.

"He was talking about a girl a while back," Wufei noted, thinking a long moment. "Shin something...Asian and perfect," he looked Chai over. "Something like you, I'd imagine, just a shade or two darker."

Chai gave him a look.

Wufei winked, then shrugged. "I never heard an end to that relationship, but if it was anything serious I'd imagine we'd have met her."

"So you guys don't know his friends?" Jordan asked Trowa and Wufei in disbelief. "How could you not know his friends?"

"He held out looking for you longer than we did," Wufei shrugged. "I could tell you'd show up when you meant to. I kept my eyes open, but he was actively looking for you for about two years. He only stopped around last fall, so we're not sure who all he met out running around with that."

Jordan felt a pang of guilt, looking to the floor a moment. He connected a few thoughts in his mind and looked up to his friends again, focusing on Trowa. "And you don't get along with Morgan."

"If you think _I_ don't get along with him," Trowa muttered, smirking slightly, "he says three things and Heero's got the look-of-doom. He doesn't even have to open his mouth to get Quatre."

Jordan blinked, looking around. "Where _is_ Quatre?"

"He's got his own group of friends, too," Wufei shrugged. "We have our group of old friends, but we only usually see each other anymore around supper." The guy frowned very slightly before meeting Jordan's eyes again. "We have our own lives now, just like you...but ours don't include not-knowing where our next meal will come from."

Morgan blinked.

"He mentioned I was living in Angels, didn't he?" Jordan asked curiously. "Five years and they only had to drive about an hour away. Is it even an hour?"

"We didn't think you'd sink that low," Trowa muttered to the floor, not looking at his friend.

"When you see a treasure on the ocean floor," Jordan noted, "you find a way to get it."

"But once you have it," Wufei returned, "you usually come up for air."

Jordan studied him a long moment as Chai rested her head against his shoulder. "Unless you get tangled in the weeds."

Trowa focused on Chai from the corner of his eyes. "The thing that sucks about drowning is that it hurts."

The pilot smirked slightly at his girl, then turned his head to look at Trowa. "But you can usually depend on your friends to fish you out."

Morgan raised an eyebrow between the three of them. "You realize this is about to get cloying, right?"

"What do you mean _about_ to?" Jordan retorted, laughing slightly as he stood and sat Chai in his spot. "You want something to drink? Eat?"

"A glass of water would be nice," Morgan agreed, grinning at him slightly. "Don't be all day about it either," he added, smacking the guy in the ass as he passed.

Jordan turned to look at him with a vaguely confused expression, then looked up to Wufei. The Chinese man was hiding a slight grin by rubbing at one cheek. He shook his head slightly and shrugged, indicating that he had no explanation or argument for the action.

"That's _my_ ass," Chai informed the new-comer, pointing at Jordan's retreating back. "You'd better ask me next time."

Morgan snickered evilly. "I'll keep that in mind...my bad. I apologize."

Chai grinned.

- -

"Hey, I need a room," Quatre muttered when Jordan answered the door, stumbling into the house with a giggling girl wrapped around his waist. "I mean...if you don't mind."

"You have your own place, don't you?" Jordan demanded, blinking at the guy. "Are you _drunk_?"

"Only a little bit," Quatre's grin was a bit evil, if unsteady. "Just..."

"Do you _know_ her?" Jordan demanded, focusing on the girl who was in about the same state.

"Yeah...she's um...she's..." Quatre leaned against her, almost falling over as they both started laughing.

"If you send them away," Chai noted, "they'll just find somewhere else."

Jordan turned to her in disbelief. "He doesn't even know her _name_."

She shrugged at him. "You did the same shit and you know it."

"But it's _Quatre_...that kind of shit was expected with _me_..."

"Come on, Jor," Quatre muttered, taking pains to stand straight again and blink at the guy. "Just for the night...I'll even pay you."

"If you weren't so drunk you couldn't stand," Jordan noted with a raised eyebrow, "I'd be offended by that."

Quatre laughed evilly, then his expression clouded. He stared at the floor blankly...

"Jor," Chai half stood as she realized the man was about to puke.

"_Out_!" Jordan shouted, pushing and shoving his drunken friend out the door while attempting to keep him on his feet. They'd barely made it onto the lawn before Quatre collapsed forward, retching into the grass.

Chai moved out a moment later with the girl, who was looking green as well. She pulled the woman's hair into a bun with the hair-tie from her own head...then watched with a sickened expression as the female started puking herself.

"I can't believe this..." Jordan muttered in disbelief, staring down at Quatre as the guy sat back on his haunches. "Never in my..."

"One Prozac a day does _not_ keep it all away," the pilot noted, turning to focus on his friend. "You can be as disgusted with me as you want, but you don't feel what she feels...you don't even _know_..."

"You don't even know her _name_, Q," Jordan shook his head. "That's...not you..."

"She's _Gina_," Quatre retorted. "Can I get some water, or you just gonna hose me down?"

"The thought crossed my mind," Jordan muttered half-heartedly, looking up as he noted someone running. A moment later, he realized the approaching figure was Heero. The man had a worried expression on his face, but there was relief as he realized Quatre was, in fact, the person in the grass.

"Oh god," Heero muttered as he reached the lawn, shaking his head. "Duty called me to tell me you were drunk off your ass. I was about to get upset that you didn't show up...Q, haven't we _talked_ about this?"

"I had a few too many drinks," Quatre snapped in irritation, stumbling to his feet as Jordan realized Chai had disappeared. "We were just sipping them...and then..."

"Yeah, and then," Heero snapped in irritation, looking the guy over. "There's always an _and then._"

"What the hell happened to you guys?" Jordan demanded in mild disbelief. "You don't have the same friends, you don't hang out together unless you have to..."

"The honest to god truth?" Quatre asked, turning to move so he was standing in Jordan's face. "You _abandoned_ us. _You_ didn't find us worth your time anymore, and it hurt us all." He swallowed hard, his eyes going slightly distant. "You just..._dropped_ us, _**Duo**_. You just _left_ us lying face-first in the dust! You couldn't even take five minutes to send us an encoded message so we knew you weren't _dead_! You're asking what happened to _us_? We're soldiers with too much battle stress and too little use...worthless, redundant, kept on the pay-roll so we don't go postal...and you want to know what happened to us..."

Jordan stared at him in disbelief.

Quatre dashed tears from his eyes before they could fall. "We don't like the same things, the same types of people, the same fucking _food_...all we have is what we've been through...and the _knowledge_ that Wilkon is just _waiting_ for us to snap..."

"Hey," Chai muttered, reappearing with two cups as silently as she'd disappeared. "It's all right, huh?" she asked, passing one pointedly to Jordan before moving up to the blond and offering it to him. She studied his eyes a moment as he stared at her, wiping at his mouth with a towel. "Don't get yourself worked up...Jordan just didn't realize that you'd change..."

Jordan moved up to the girl, offering her the cup, glancing back at the blond.

Quatre guffawed at the comment, though he took the cup from her and looked away.

"He didn't mean anything by this," Chai added. "Living in Angels kinda robbed him of his emotions..."

"What little the heartless bastard _had_," the blond agreed.

Jordan was stung.

"That was unnecessary," Chai reprimanded, frowning at the male. "Did you _have_ to say that?"

"No," Quatre muttered, his eyes going downcast. "I didn't...I just...it's _hard_, pussycat. It's really _hard_ to know that we're all just...useless now..."

"You're not useless," the girl reprimanded, wiping at his mouth again. "You still need to get Jon out of this hot water, huh?"

Quatre grinned at that, studying her seriously. "You're really nice, you know?"

Chai smiled slightly at him.

He sighed, leaning against her, closing his eyes. "You make it all go away."

"He's...an empath," Heero reminded her quickly, moving closer before she could speak. "He's...got some problems because of it."

She nodded.

Jordan ran his hands down his face, starting to shake his head.

"You _are_...nice," the other girl muttered, moving closer to Chai and studying her with confused eyes.

"This is Gina," Heero muttered to the pair. "She's also an empath. She's not as strong as Q is, but..." he shook his head.

"Uh...guys?" Chai asked, causing them both to focus on her...as she was nearly toppled backwards under Quatre's weight.

"Did he pass out?" Jordan demanded in disbelief.

"There are people who can...make it quiet," Heero muttered, moving in quickly to take the pilot off her. "When they're found, the empaths cling to them. I don't know what spurred the drink-fest tonight, but I'm sure that making it go away helped him...he's on Prozac and he's not _supposed_ to drink at all."

Chai focused on Gina, who was standing near her and staring at the ground, then turned and ushered the female toward the house. "You two should just sleep it off now."

The girl looked to Jordan uncertainly.

"You were drunk off your asses," Jordan reassured her, following a few steps behind. He saw her uncertainty in her eyes. She thought he'd disapprove because of not just giving Quatre the room...to puke in. "I didn't want him to do something and freak out about it in the morning."

"Puking kills the buzz," she noted, moving into the house.

"There're spare toothbrushes in the bathroom," Jordan noted. "You can go ahead and use that...should we wake Q up, or no?"

"He'll wake up in a few hours," Heero shrugged. "He always does. Just be sure to put cups out so he can get water. Tomorrow is his day off, so don't bother waking him up in the morning."

"Is anyone else on Prozac?" Jordan muttered to Chai with a vaguely irritated expression as Heero disappeared into the spare room.

"Jordan, this bed isn't made," Heero called.

"Oh, sorry," Chai muttered, moving through the door quickly. Jordan limped after her.

It didn't take them long to put the bed together, since they'd bought a bed in a bag. After Heero had settled Quatre onto the mattress, he chased down Gina. It turned out that she had puked again into the toilet and was waiting for the nausea to pass. She brushed her teeth at Heero's urging, and he assisted her to bed. The low reassuring tone he used, and the quickness with which she complied suggested to Jordan that this wasn't the first instance he'd had of it.

"I wish I could do something more for him," Heero muttered, joining the pair in the kitchen and accepting the glass of lemonade Chai had poured him. "I wish I could tell when he was going to _have_ these instances."

"How long has this been going on?" Jor muttered, leaning against the counter.

"The last year or two," Heero shrugged, looking down. He smiled very slightly, looking up again. "Wufei smokes cigarettes, and I can't vouch for it, but I think Tro smokes vrit sometimes..."

"What do you do, then?"

"What do _you_ do?" Heero returned.

"I _did_ fuck anyone with two legs and tits," Jordan returned.

Heero shrugged. "I do that...I drink too much...and I won't divulge my dirty little secret with innocent ears around," he indicated Chai with his head. "Nothing's like you'll remember it. I got the impression from Wufei earlier that it startled you we have other friends. Seeing as you _are_ you, I'll tell you I have a fairly serious girlfriend in town. I'm not telling anyone here on the base, though, because I'm a hot-target. We all have enemies. If our lady friends are on base, it doesn't matter. Like Varia and Gina. They both live here in the area for...telepaths, whatever you'd like to call them. You and Chai are obviously here, and Tro's girlfriend is a minor office official over on the east side." He focused distantly. "I think I want you to meet her."

"Why don't the guys know her?"

Heero focused on the guy, taking a drink from his cup before sighing. "She'd be considered trash. She's a Chinese girl sharing an apartment with about three of her friends. They all work a couple jobs, but they don't really make enough to get by."

"Ah, so you give her money?"

Heero looked away again and shrugged. "I'd rather not talk about it."

Chai studied him a long moment, then looked to Jordan. She studied her boyfriend a long moment in silence, then offered them both a slight smile, patting Heero in the center of his chest as she walked by. In a few moments she'd disappeared into the bedroom with the door closed, and they heard water running.

"What was that?" Heero asked in confusion, blinking.

"That was her understanding something you said," Jordan shrugged. "I could ask her and she'd tell me. But if you don't want to talk about it..." he left it hanging.

Heero sighed and shrugged, glancing toward the bedroom door. He was quiet a moment, and when he spoke again he wasn't looking at Jordan. "Shin won't just let me _give_ her money."

"She an Angels girl?"

Heero nodded and shrugged, thinking a long moment. "Life's not perfect here. We don't lead exemplary lives. We have our vices and we have our secrets." He shook his head. "Quatre wasn't lying when he said our only bond is what we've been through together. I can't honestly say Quatre and I'd had a conversation about anything off-base since his last binge."

"So what do we do?" Jordan muttered, trying to think of a way to reunite the group.

"Your being here is helping," Heero reassured him. "We all want to catch up with you and that puts us in close proximity again—not to say that living together isn't close, but we actually talk to each other and listen...and care."

"That's always a plus," Jordan noted, grinning slightly.

Chai moved from the bedroom in a pair of silky pants and a spaghetti-strap tank top...and no bra.

Heero grinned at her. "Nice shirt."

"Huh?" she asked, blinking at him, then looked down at the shirt. "What?" she insisted, looking back to the man.

Jordan elbowed his friend, moving forward and lowering his voice. "You should put on the robe, huh?"

"Why?"

"Because my friends don't need to see your attributes," he retorted, giving her a look. "Just humor me."

She smirked at him, then raised her eyebrows at Heero, turning on her heel.

Heero was grinning when Jordan turned back to him, then the guy laughed. He shook his head after a moment and moved to punch Jordan in the arm. "It's nice to have you back. I missed that look that states you'll kill me in ten seconds."

"Shouldn't you be running, then?" Jordan asked sweetly.

"Oh, I dunno, I haven't had a Duo-style ass whoopin' in years."

"Oh _ow_," Jordan muttered, cringing away from the term.

Heero laughed happily, moving around the guy. "Night, pussycat..."

"Why do you _all_ call me that?" she called, moving back into the kitchen and noting the former-pilot darting for the door.

"Three, two, one," Jordan noted aloud...and started for the door.

Heero laughed a naughty laugh, and disappeared into the night.

Jordan grinned slightly at Chai. "They keep forgetting I won't actually chase them."

- -

"Wait a second," Wufei muttered as he and Chai stood in the kitchen—Chai had made a pot of rice and was dishing it into serving bowls for Wufei and Morgan. Quatre was hovering in the background, looking considerate, and Wufei had just had a thought.

"What?" she muttered, passing him his bowl.

"Chopsticks?" he asked quietly, watching as she turned and dug some out. "You're twenty-one, right?" he added as she passed a bowl to Morgan.

"Almost twenty-two now," she agreed, offering Morgan a spoon, fork, and a set of chopsticks.

Morgan winked at her, taking the spoon and moving to follow Wufei to the bar-area of the counter.

"You gonna try some?" she asked Quatre, smiling slightly at him.

He nodded. "Not a lot, though."

"All right."

"You've known Jor for five years now?"

"A bit more than four," she agreed, scooping some of the food into a bowl and offering Quatre the thing and a spoon. "Why?"

"So you were like...seventeen when you met him?"

She nodded, giving him a curious look.

"You were _pregnant_ at seventeen?"

The girl lost her good humor, focusing on him in disbelief. She would have been fine if Morgan hadn't stopped completely in mid-scoop.

"Sorry," Wufei muttered, making a slight face. "I just...I mean...you were _young_."

"I was also in Angels," she returned, turning her back on them to get her own bowl.

"Is it really as bad as they say down there?" Morgan asked curiously.

Quatre rolled his eyes, pressing away from the counter and moving toward the living room with a pointed look to the girl.

"I don't know," Chai returned, blinking after Quatre in confusion. "What do they say?"

"Rape, beatings, muggings..."

"The world over?" she frowned at the guy as she poured soy sauce on her rice.

"Not really," he muttered. "Drugs, huh? You ever try any?"

"Morgan," Wufei snapped, giving him a look.

"I'm just _asking_," Morgan protested. "I mean, if she were..."

"You finish that sentence and you'll suffer," Wufei muttered to him quickly in Chinese.

"What?" Chai asked blankly.

"You were young," Morgan muttered, not quite looking at her. "I know I did some stupid shit when I was a teenager."

"Yeah, before you were twenty-five, too," Quatre noted loudly from the other room.

"I'm twenty-six, Mr. Winner," Morgan retorted snidely.

"Yeah, and you've known Fei about a year. I'm sure he keeps you from base stupidity."

Wufei closed his eyes, squaring his jaw.

"Why don't you come say that to my face?" Morgan snapped.

"Don't _even_ start that shit in my house," Chai snapped at him, her heart racing fast. "Don't be picking fights here."

"I'm not the one picking," Morgan snapped at her.

Chai nearly flinched back, but noticed in the same instant that Wufei was watching her expectantly. He was waiting for what she'd say next...and it was _her_ house. She focused on Morgan, not entirely sure what her expression registered.

"Sorry," he muttered quickly. "I'm sorry...I just..."

Quatre laughed from the living room and the television flicked on.

"_He_ thinks he owns the world," Morgan noted snidely, indicating the blond.

"I could fuckin' buy it if I felt the need," Quatre agreed.

Morgan's mouth flickered, but he looked away and took a deep breath.

"Quatre, please," Chai muttered, trying not to make it sound like a plea.

"I'm sorry," Wufei muttered, stirring his rice as he studied it. "I didn't realize Quatre was here or I wouldn't have brought Morgan along."

"I _can_ be civil, Wufei," Morgan noted in irritation.

"Which is why she had to ask you to stop," Wufei noted, then shook his head at his friend. "Just leave it. You know I keep you away from Quatre and Heero, don't make Chai uncomfortable. It's not her problem."

Morgan didn't respond, poking at his rice a moment before starting to eat it.

Chai smiled slightly at Wufei, realizing that her heart rate had calmed. She'd never been able to talk back to a man before. The fact that Wufei had obviously been waiting for her decision and Jor had said it was her hose...

It was _her_ house...hers.

No one needed to be there...that she didn't want to be there.

"What are you thinking about?" Wufei asked, smiling slightly as he studied her expression.

"Why do you ask?" she muttered, meeting his eyes again.

"You have a cute little smile," he explained, grinning even more at her. "Your eyes are sparkling and you have a cute little smile."

Chai laughed a bit, shaking her head. "I'm just happy is all," she explained, looking around _her_ house. "I never thought I'd make it out of Angels, let alone be able to feed random people who show up on my doorstep...it's a good feeling."

"We'll be sure to provide you with more endorphins," Morgan reassured her, passing her his bowl. "I like showing up on your doorstep."

Chai laughed happily, and went to get him more.


	13. Ten For the Win

**Ten For the Game**

"Quatre?" Heero called down the hall as the group got ready for work.

"Yeah?" Quatre called back, glancing down the hall.

"Come here."

Quatre sighed obviously, tucking his wallet into his pocket before moving down the hall to where Heero was in the kitchen. "What's up?"

Heero glanced toward Trowa and Wufei's rooms before looking back to his friend. "You take your meds today?"

The blond lost his good humor. He stared at Heero a long moment in mild disbelief, then looked away and shrugged. If the guy were asking, there was a reason behind it. Quatre'd missed a few days of his meds. He'd thought he'd be fine, but his upset stomach and general feeling of shit suggested he'd been very wrong, if only because of the binge. "How did you know?"

"With Jor being back," Heero returned, "we were all initially excited about it." He studied the guy a long moment. "I don't want to...I just...I want you to be okay," Heero added, moving a little closer as he studied the guy's eyes. "I want you to be able to enjoy him here instead of..."

"I know, Heero," Quatre reassured him with a slight smile, punching his arm lightly. "I understand. I'll take it when I eat, all right?"

Heero nodded, then shrugged slightly.

Quatre smiled at him, then winked as he moved back into his room to finish getting ready. He was intending to spend as much time with Chai as he could without making her uncomfortable or worrying Duo. He didn't want his old friend to think he was moving in on the girl.

Actually, he needed to talk to her about that, because she seemed very normal on a daily basis. She'd been attempting to make him feel better, and it had worked. Gina had vouched that she'd been normal, and then a quieting...

"I'm out the door," Trowa announced, which was followed by the door closing.

"Aren't you gonna..." Heero started, but the door closed before he could finish. "...eat? Right. I guess we'll see you at lunch."

Wufei laughed appreciatively.

"Hope you have a good day," Heero added for their amusement, moving back into the kitchen. "I hope you know Chai wants us to come over at lunch, I'm not sure if Jor mentioned it or not..."

"You realize how pathetic that sounds, right?" Wufei asked sweetly, moving down the hall. "So, mother-hen, what's for eatin'?"

"I made some breakfast burrito stuff," Heero returned through a mouth-full.

"If you have the stomach for it after seeing that," Quatre noted, moving down the hall himself. He moved to his bottle, pouring the pill into his hand and displaying it to Heero. He did feel like Heero was being a bit motherly, but he knew it to be a genuine worry on Heero's mind. He grinned and took it, then downed the cup of orange juice offered him. "Thanks," he added, noting that Wufei had his back turned and opening his mouth so Heero could see he'd really swallowed the thing.

The soldier grinned—he did look, but he also grinned.

Quatre winked and went to make up his burrito...then another as the first bite revealed it to be very tasty. He made up a third just in case, wrapping the extra two in a napkin. "I have to meet with mister Psycho," he noted. "Duty told more'n you that I came in plastered," he made a face. "Then I have to go talk to Une...I'll meet up with you guys at about ten. We're really expected for lunch?"

Heero nodded. "Chai has nothing better to do, so even if it's not all of us, we're supposed to stop by and eat whatever she makes us. Jor said it normally enough, but I got the definite impression that he was worried about her feelings being hurt. I think we're fine until she digs up a cook-book and starts experimenting."

Quatre snorted, scooping sugar into the mix of coffee and milk he'd already poured while his friend talked.

"That's not very nice," Wufei reprimanded him, then sniggered as he made his own extras. "You have a point, but you're not supposed to _say_ it."

Heero laughed, then tilted his head and indicated the food without actually moving.

"It's good, have you tried it?" Quatre explained, starting for the door and sipping at the hot cup. "I have to go or Psycho'll get upset with me."

"Any particular story? You care?" Heero asked.

"Nah," Quatre shrugged as he moved toward the door. "Thanks for breakfast, see you later..."

"I'm glad he's eating again," Wufei noted, taking another large bite of his.

"Now if we can get you to stop smoking," Heero muttered, focusing on his friend pointedly.

"Hey," Wufei pointed at him, "when you stop going to your orgies, I'll stop smoking myself to death."

Heero laughed evilly. "At least mine doesn't make me stink." He started for the front door.

"Yeah, says you," Wufei retorted, rolling his eyes.

Heero turned to look the guy over. "But see, with mine, I get my fix about once a month. You need yours about once every four hours."

"But mine is a bit more socially acceptable," Wufei shrugged. "We could run it by Jordan, see what he has to say."

"Yeah, let's do that," Heero agreed, rolling his eyes again and moving out the door. He shook his head as he climbed into his car, then realized he hadn't grabbed any coffee. He hesitated, not sure if he wanted to go back in for it or not.

Wufei showed up before he could make his final decision and locked the door behind himself. Heero sighed slightly and settled back to start his engine, then realized that the Chinese man was heading toward his window. He blinked and hit the button to roll the window down, and realized Wufei was holding two cups.

"Oh, thanks," he muttered, accepting the one offered him.

"Two sugar and a shot of milk, right?" Wufei asked. "I hope so, because that's what you got."

Heero grinned at him. "That's what you drink. I do more milk, thanks anyway."

Wufei winked. "Thanks for breakfast."

- -

Une set folders in front of the five men, then stepped back and pushed her hair out of her face. "These are confidential, gentlemen."

"Usually," Heero noted, opening the folder to glance down the first sheet of paper. He read it a moment, then turned to look to Jordan.

"His, the legal, the records," Jordan was flipping through himself, thinking the information over. "You've got the various testimonies of Asshole, right?" He looked up to Une.

"You mean Piet?"

"Who?" Jordan returned blankly.

"Jefferson Piet," Heero explained, grinning slightly. "Asshole, our assassin."

"Oh, yeah," Jordan grinned a bit and looked back to Une.

"We've got his stories, Breer's story...he has kept to one, by the way. We've got Shifton's story as well. I included the original suspect list in case you wanted to look into that, and several other things. I didn't draw these up, so I'm not completely sure what's in them."

"All right," Jordan rubbed at a temple as he read down the first sheet of paper, then set the file back on the table-top, comparing the first two sheets.

"According to Shifton," Une added, "he met up with Breer in a bar in Remington. I guess Breer put the moves on him and they ended up going back to Breer's together..." she was studying Jordan as she said it.

"I'm sure he noted that I was playing body-guard, then," Jor returned, not even looking up at the woman. "I can substantiate that he swept Shifton off his feet while I laughed my ass off," he made a mark on one sheet with his pen. "I can also verify that they had several other rendezvous before anything was even suggested about money."

"That helps us how?" Heero muttered, looking around the group.

"In that Jon is telling the truth," Jordan returned, looking up to him. "That Terry was easy and evidently fairly entertaining. I thought they were gonna start a real relationship before Jon stopped mentioning him."

"Jordan," Une said levelly, "if you have a personal relationship with the suspects, we may have to move you off the case."

He met her eyes, considering that. "And how are we gonna keep that to ourselves?"

"By not _telling_ everyone," she snapped.

"Okay, fine, sorry," he focused back on the papers. "What do I have left to do today?"

"I've discussed it with a few people," Une explained, "and we've decided to put you in intensive."

Jordan stopped completely, looking up to her in disbelief.

"It's necessary to give you the Remalene," she added. "Your leg is keeping you from performing at your normal level. That's a dangerous flaw that would have to be worked into any strategy. If we can get you healed in a week instead of two, then there's that much less thought."

"We'll go eat lunch," Wufei muttered, closing his folder and looking up, "then take you to the med tent."

"There's a tent on the grounds?" Jordan asked blankly.

"It's what we call the building," Quatre explained, rolling his eyes slightly. "It's like how I call my psychiatrist Mister Psycho and they call Eastland at the gate Duty."

"Oh, all right," Jordan nodded, then frowned. "What if I refuse?"

"It'll get you healed," Heero muttered. "Your wound would have taken upwards of a month to heal, and you've ripped it open twice now. This way, it'll only take you another week or something."

"I heal fast anyway," Jordan protested, frowning more. "I don't like the idea of my blood being tested when I've been wallowing in Angels for five years. God only knows what I might have gotten."

"You're the slut," Trowa muttered happily, looking back to his folder.

"What?" Une asked, blinking at them.

Jordan sighed, shoving his chair out and rising. "Nothing. I have to go talk to Chai. How long is intensive likely to take?"

"A couple hours," Une shrugged. "It depends on how fast they can run their tests. If all goes well, you can start on the Remalene by suppertime."

Jordan nodded, not quite looking at her as he disappeared into the hall.

"Is he really upset?" she asked uncertainly, looking to Quatre.

"Oh, me?" he muttered, blinking as he realized it _was_ him she was asking. He thought over his impression of his friend's emotions a moment, then shrugged. "Uh...he's worried that he actually has something."

"But..." Une started, frowning slightly.

"He's your angel, Une," Tro noted, closing his own folder and rising to his feet. "Don't ask questions that might disillusion you to the reality of it all. We've all been invited to lunch at his place, so we should probably all go."

"Is that everything, Ma'am?" Heero asked in agreement before she could snap, focusing on her as if he'd beat Trowa to asking.

"I...yes," she nodded, the very slight flicker of irritation disappearing as fast as it had shown up. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"We're done for today?" Quatre was startled.

"Well, Jordan has to go through intensive," she shrugged, "and I'd imagine you all want to look over this information."

"All right," Quatre nodded respectfully to her.

When he started for the door, Heero was a few steps behind and Wufei kept pace. Trowa hesitated before the door like he'd say something, then turned to flash the woman his most _charming_ grin...and leave her standing alone.

Une sighed.

- -

"No, it'll mark in my record that I've done vrit," Jordan muttered to Chai, looking highly irritated as Heero moved through the front door.

"You're joking, right?" Heero demanded, though he himself had given into curiosity before. He had no intentions of pointing out the fact that for the duration of one evening, he'd thought his friend was _addicted_ to the drug...

"You don't know the half of it," Jordan sighed, rubbing his leg as he thought. "Intensive maps out blood immunities, right?" Jordan looked to Heero as Quatre and the others moved across the room.

"Uh-oh," Chai muttered as she remembered that Morgan didn't get along with Heero or Quatre.

"What?" Jordan asked, focusing on her.

Morgan moved from the bathroom almost on cue, wiping his hands on his jeans as he realized everyone had shown up, then stopped as he realized _who_ everyone included.

"Oh," Wufei muttered, blinking several times.

"Oh dear lord, what are _you_ doing here?" Heero muttered, giving the guy an almost repulsed disbelieving look.

"Don't even _start_," Chai snapped, though she couldn't even look at him. There was something about Heero that made her scared of even irritating him a little. It wasn't a kind of fear that made her want to avoid him, but she definitely didn't want to anger him or confront him in any way.

Heero blinked at her, then looked to Morgan.

"Hi, Heero," Morgan gave the guy a very fake smile. "Nice to see you again."

Heero nodded somewhat facetiously, then moved passed the group into the kitchen.

"You should probably go," Wufei suggested, moving up as Quatre followed the other.

"You okay?" Jordan muttered, noting Chai's distress. He moved up to touch her arm, studying her face curiously.

She nodded, then shrugged. "I'll go start lunch."

"I think I will," Morgan sighed, then offered a hand to Jordan.

"You should come over this evening," Jordan invited. He knew there had to be a valid reason for Heero's obvious rudeness, which made him want to get to know the man better.

Morgan nodded at him, bumped his shoulder against Wufei's, then headed for the door.

"I'll have lunch with you tomorrow," Wufei offered after the man, then hesitated and looked back to his host. "I'll be in in a few, okay?"

Jordan nodded, watching as Wufei dug into a pocket and disappeared out the door.

"He's smoking, you realize?" Trowa asked. "He and Morgan smoke together all the time."

"I could care, I suppose," Jordan returned, studying the guy, "but I don't know why I should."

Tro shrugged slightly. "I was just letting you know."

Jordan grinned at him, turning to limp toward the kitchen.

"I can't wait to see him stop limping," Trowa muttered to the group, shaking his head slightly as he followed. "It just hurts to _watch_."

- -

Being poked and prodded had never been a very appealing situation for Jordan, who bore with his exam as patiently as he could. He didn't hurt the guy's hand too badly when he'd missed the vein with the needle, and really, the man performed much better when he'd gotten over the 'my-god, the Gundam pilot's gonna kill me' moment. Of course, Une had smacked Jor upside the head for it, since she'd long been accustomed to him terrorizing her med-staff.

"So where's _my_ doctor?" Jordan snapped when the man was initiating the tests on the blood. "Why can't _Morris_ do this?"

"He does take the shit better," Tro noted from where he was leaning against the wall. "He actually got to the point where he bit back."

Jordan snickered as he remembered the incident.

"What are they going on about?" Chai asked curiously, moving around Une to lean into Jordan's chest.

"I hate this shit," Jordan explained, gesturing to the needles sitting in their sterile packets. "I always hate getting needles shoved into me and crap. When I was little I was given a _shit_ load of flu shots and stuff at the same time. It made me sick with about ten things until those kicked in fully. And it hurt," he indicated the spot about the size of a baseball on his upper right arm. "It was bruised for days. They even took samples of my blood because I lived in a place _like_ Angels, and had never been to the doctor in my life."

"So you're scared of shots?" she asked, smirking at him.

"Not so much scared as unhappy," he retorted.

She giggled, nuzzling at him. "It's okay, I'll hold your hand..."

Heero sniggered.

"I will hurt _you_," Jordan informed his friend, though he was amused.

"Your doctor's out until Monday," Une retorted. "I figured I'd give him a good laugh by sticking one he doesn't like with you so the guy can grumble about how insane you are."

"I'm still missing something," Chai noted, though she was amused.

"Jordan has never been able to just let himself get a shot," Trowa explained. "He has to be distracted when the needle goes in or he reaches to knock it out. Morris, who was his doctor for about three years way back when, figured a way so he could be _alone_ in the exam room without worrying about getting his head smashed in."

"Jordan," Chai reprimanded.

"I'm not _that_ bad..."

"Take a look at this guy's hand and say that again with a straight face," Heero muttered.

Jordan gave him a look.

"If Morris missed like this guy did," Tro continued easily, "Jor would do something like he just did, bending the fingers back or something. Morris realized he could get away with decking him."

"I almost had kittens when I first realized why he had a black eye after an exam," Une noted with a tolerantly amused smile. "That was until I realized the room was in shambles and Morris had a black eye and a broken finger."

"_Jordan_!"

Jordan started laughing.

"For childhood issues like this," Heero added, indicating the guy on the table, "consistency is the best approach. For the last year or so, Jordan would sit quietly and let Morris do what he needed to without freaking out. It's a trust thing, boundaries were set and Jordan could relax because it wasn't a new situation."

"Hey," Jordan muttered, "I'm still sitting here."

Heero grinned and shrugged, looking to Chai. "That's why we're all here, by the way. We knew it wouldn't be Morris doing intensive, so we all just sorta...found our way into the exam room."

Chai grinned more. "I thought that was odd, and the guy was asking why you were all here."

"And that's why he missed," Jordan shot accusingly.

"And he was answered nigh on immediately, too," Wufei agreed, then laughed as he moved further into the corner. "I, personally, loved when Morris refused to let us enter."

"Come on, enough with the stories," Jordan protested, giving the guy a meaningful look.

"I'm not sure how biting came into play," Wufei shrugged at the girl. "We weren't in the room to see what led up to it, but they were both covered in teeth bruises by the time it was finished."

"Kinky," Chai noted impishly to her boyfriend.

"Hahaha," Jordan retorted sardonically, rolling his eyes. "He went to hold my hands behind my back so I bit him...and he bit me back."

Chai laughed delightedly.

"I find it amusing that he prefers Morris now," Quatre noted, climbing onto the counter and swinging his feet. "But like Heero was saying, consistency helps."

"I'd rather _not_ have my trust issues laid out for display, thanks," Jordan's tone was pointed. "At one point Morris had an opening where he could have _really_ hurt me, and he didn't do it. It made me _realize_ that he _was_ just trying to help, so I cooperated with him. Shit, he was as surprised as you all were."

Une rested a hand on his back to reassure him, smiling slightly at Chai.

Chai obviously loved Jordan, and he just as obviously loved her. Une was smart enough to realize that if they worked together the way they did, then maybe she wasn't just _wrong_ for him. Maybe she was just what he needed, and the girl seemed sweet. She'd won over everyone Une had talked to so far about Jordan, so...she'd give her a chance. Maybe...just maybe, being a slums girl wasn't the death warrant she'd thought it was.

Maybe Chai _was_ good enough for Duo—he certainly seemed to love her in return...

"Everything seems clear," the doctor muttered as he moved back into the room, holding papers and rubbing at his fingers. "I want to talk to him about a few things, but that will be confidential."

"All right," Une agreed sweetly, reaching forward to grab Chai's arm. "Come on, sweetie, we can get some lunch and chatter while the men-folk sit around looking tough."

Chai blinked at her uncertainly, then focused on Jordan when the guy offered her a slight smile, touching her hip. He gestured slightly with his head, and she raised her eyebrows at him, following the woman.

"Do you want me to stay?" Heero asked as Trowa and Wufei followed the girls. "Just in case?"

"It's up to Maxwell," the doctor shrugged. "There are some things on his records that seem to match what I remember seeing on yours, though."

Heero met Jordan's startled eyes and shrugged.


	14. Double Sided

**Double Sided**

"Hey, Chai," Quatre ran up behind the girl as she moved along a sidewalk. "Are you busy? Where's Jordan?" he looked the area over.

"He's sleeping," Chai explained, smiling at the pilot. "What are you doing out here? I thought only Jor had off time right now."

"I have to pick up a file at interior," Quatre pointed to the building he'd run out of when he'd seen the girl. "But I needed to talk to you."

"You're breaking up with me?" she teased with a slight gasp.

"I'm sorry, baby," he agreed, striking a dramatic pose, "but it's not meant to be..."

"Is it another girl?"

"Two girls, actually..."

Chai guffawed in disbelief.

"Gina and Varia are close friends of mine," Quatre explained with an innocent seeming expression.

Chai gave him a disgusted look, then smiled and moved to link arms with him. "I made a brunch date with Jon."

"Ah," the blond nodded, studying her face and pulling her to a stop. "I really needed to talk to you, though. I tried last night."

"What's up?" she returned, blinking at him.

"I think you're a quieting," Quatre explained in a low voice, looking around. "The other night...you made it all go away. I _need_ that, pussycat. Can you do it again?"

"That's either a bizarre pick-up line or..."

"I know," he muttered, looking to his feet. "And it's not like you're doing it now..."

"What do you mean, quieting?"

He raised his eyes to hers, blinking as he thought. "You can mute my empathy," he decided after a moment. "I say can, because you seem to control it. Most quietings can't do that. Usually it's just being around them. I'm not intending to tell anyone, though, because everyone would flock to you."

"That girl, Gina? She was there."

"She doesn't remember any of what happened," Quatre smiled a bit. "She got lost at the 'and then' Heero was mentioning. She was freaking out when we woke up that morning. I kept her quiet until she realized that it was a friend of mine's place and we hadn't fucked, but she doesn't remember."

"So it's a good thing Jor stopped you, isn't it?" Chai felt smug about Jordan's victory, even though it hadn't been a contest.

Quatre laughed a bit evilly. "You think there wasn't a reason I didn't take her back to my room? I'm guilty of manipulation...but...that's neither here nor there. Could...I get you to do that around me?"

"Do what?" Chai understood that his request was genuine. There was something almost vulnerable in his manner, which was what made her realize she shouldn't tease him or joke about it.

"What you did," he muttered, studying her eyes. "You came out with the water and a towel...and you made it all stop."

"Oh!" she grinned, bouncing slightly. "I was..." she recalled the want of reassurance...and blinked when his eyes closed. "Now that's interesting," she muttered, grinning slightly at him.

"I think I love you," he muttered, then laughed, opening his eyes to look at her. There was distraction there, though. He watched a woman approach, then walk past them wordlessly, turning his head at a car that was driving by.

Chai stopped.

"Hey!" he protested, turning to her instantly, blinking and shaking his head.

"I have to go, Quatre, and you have work to do," she muttered, grabbing his hand. "I know what I was doing and I can do it again."

"I...need that," he muttered, looking at her feet. "Is that asking too much?"

"It's interesting when it looks like you're getting off," she muttered, giggling naughtily. "But other than that, it causes no issue."

He grinned, then gave her a look.

"You're coming for supper, right?" she asked, glancing to her watch. "Jordan should wake up by four-thirty."

"All right," he muttered, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "I'll see you then."

"Bye," Chai called after him, turning and starting for the restaurant again.

- -

"It'll take me until noon to wake up," Jordan muttered blearily to Heero. He leaned down to rub his tingling and slightly itchy leg, but stopped himself. "I'm really tired, Heero...why is this important?"

"I told you," Heero frowned slightly, "I want you to meet Shin."

"What's your ulterior motive? I don't see why you'd just suddenly call me and get me to go with you instead of hanging out a few weeks before."

"I can't ask you to approve of my girlfriend?" Heero's expression was upset, though he was feeling a bit of consternation. He got a look from his old friend and sighed, rolling his eyes. "She got paid today, and tomorrow she'll know what bills she's screwed on. I always go and try to help."

"So why bring me? Be honest, Heero, these games irritate me when I'm about passing out where I stand."

"Because you _lived_ in Angels and you can _persuade_ her to take my money, all right? I don't care if you have the biggest moral refusal on the planet over it. She _needs_ my help, and the fact that you've slummed for five years in Angels means you can make her do it...Jordan," he added seriously, his eyes clouding slightly, "she has a son."

In an instant, every argument about respect and letting her make her own path to success dropped. Hearing the words changed Jor's entire perspective on the matter. He blinked at his friend a long moment, realizing that he _wanted_ to see their relationship.

"Will you help me, please?" Heero muttered, studying the guy as he realized that Jordan might be able to get Shin to move onto base. That would be the easiest route, anyway.

"A son?"

"He's three," Heero agreed, looking away slightly. "He calls me Chance."

Jordan smiled slightly and nodded. "If you wake me up again, I'll find a convenient excuse to go back to bed. I won't be up until noon or one."

"Thank you," Heero muttered seriously, feeling some relief as he ended the conversation to Jordan's rolled eyes. He turned to look at the empty apartment-like area he shared with his friends, then sighed and moved toward his bedroom.

He wasn't sure what was coming in his immediate future, but he _was_ sure it was needed...no matter what it ended up being.

- -

"Chance!" a small boy with dark hair darted out the front door of the busy house as people started protesting indoors. Another woman, whose hair was dishwater blond, stepped out the front door to see Heero scoop the boy up and hold him close in a hug.

"Shin," the woman called, "your boy-toy is here...with someone."

"What?" a different woman demanded as Jordan followed Heero up the path to the front door with the child studying him with large and curious eyes.

"Hey, Shin," Heero called, darting through the door and practically engulfing the woman. It was followed by a kiss and a quick yammering of Chinese. Heero gestured happily to his friend and muttered on.

"Hi," Jordan muttered to the other women who were confused and interested him. He extended a hand. "I'm Jordan."

"No, you're Duo Maxwell," a woman corrected as she moved into the dining room.

"Actually, I'm not," Jordan returned, narrowing his eyes at her. "I _was_, but I'm not now."

She blinked at him.

"I'm Vandy," the woman with dishwater blond hair muttered, extending her hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"You have some balls," Shin noted, focusing on Jordan with an almost disgusted face. "Disappearing for five years, asshole."

"Nice to meet you, too, Shin," Jordan retorted.

"Don't start that shit with me," the woman snapped, moving around Heero as the guy's expression clouded. "You think you're hot shit because you made in _Angels_. You's a big bad boy now, huh?"

The little boy giggled slightly.

"I had someone to take care of," Jordan spat, narrowing his eyes at her. "I was done with the military and I had someone who needed me," he indicated the child.

Shin's eyes narrowed.

"I wouldn't be back now if my friend weren't in legal shit," the soldier added, raising his eyebrows. "And don't get all high and mighty thinking I'm here to preach at you either. Just because you're a bitch doesn't mean I'll go to that level."

Heero's expression turned instantly dark.

Shin crossed her arms as she glared at him. "Then why _are_ you here?"

"I happen to be Chance's best friend," Jordan explained with forced cheer. "He wanted me to meet his girl."

She blinked at that, then turned to look at Heero. The man avoided her eyes completely.

Jordan considered her bearing and that of the other women in the room, then shrugged slightly. "You should come to my place for dinner. I think you'd get along with my girl."

A startled expression crossed her face.

Jordan smiled slightly, looking to Heero.

The female pursed her lips, then moved forward to extend her hand. "I'm sorry, I misunderstood what Heero said."

"His Mandarin isn't too great," Jordan reassured her.

"Hey!" Heero protested.

Shin laughed happily, then turned to look at the other women. "You met Vandy. She's Jade...I'll point the other out when she comes around...um...come in, please."

Jordan nodded his head somewhat gratefully as Heero finally set the boy down. "This is Chip."

"Hi," the little boy waved at him.

"His real name is Zachary," Shin muttered with a smile.

"Is you friends with Chance?" the kid asked, pointing at Heero with his small hand.

"Yep," Jordan agreed, smiling at the kid. "Are you?"

"Yeah! He's my best!" the kid bounced a bit.

"You're my best, too," Heero muttered, ruffling the boy's hair.

"Can you get me something to me to drink?" Zachary asked, moving up to Heero.

"Like what?"

"Milk," the kid decided, following him to the fridge. "Juice."

Heero grinned, pulling out a cup and moving to the fridge.

"He talks really good," Jordan noted, meeting Shin's eyes.

She smiled at him, moving around to enter the kitchen properly as she studied Heero. "What made you decide to come today?"

"Jor's on Remalene," Heero explained as he poured the kid his cup and closed it. "He got today off because of it."

"Remalene?" Jade asked, blinking at him. "Why?"

"I got shot," Jordan returned somewhat sardonically.

"Where?" the woman still looked confused.

Jordan pulled up his pant leg to show the quickly healing wound.

"Damn," Jade muttered, blinking at the injury. "I'm shocked you're standing."

"It didn't hit anything," Jordan shrugged, turning to limp toward the counter. He found it interesting that the wound was as closed as it was. He'd been on the drug for a night and it was already vastly healed compared to what it had been. All the tearing he'd caused with his run from the swat and walking around like a madman on base had healed. He actually wanted to take the next dose sooner than later, but he owed it to...Chance...to see what he could do about the girl.

"How did it happen?" Shin asked, looking back up to his face.

Jordan smirked slightly. "Chance and circumstance."

Heero snorted.

- -

"You're ready to go back already?" Heero muttered to Jordan as he looked to his watch and noted it was only seven, frowning toward the city.

"I need to take the next dose," Jordan explained. "I'm tired, and I haven't talked to Chai all day."

"Here," Heero passed over his cell phone. "Call and check in. Tell her you're going out with me to the bar...please?"

"Chance," Jordan muttered in irritation, "what part of me being on _Remalene_ aren't you getting? I need to hit base."

Heero's eyes moved longingly to the city again.

"What do you even _do_?" Jor asked exasperatedly. "The guys don't know your friends or anything."

"Oh, Wufei knows," Heero muttered in a darkly amused tone. "You can work that one out of him."

Jordan raised an eyebrow. "So you want me to sit pretty and follow you into a bar so you can do _God_ knows what and then show up with you tomorrow afternoon with a shit-eating grin? I'm not leaving Chai alone tonight, and if you're gonna be a fucker about it, I'll just get a cab."

Heero frowned at him. "I have friends waiting for me."

That irritated the formerly braided male as they slid into Heero's SUV. "Take me to the base, and you can go play."

"But..."

"But _what_, Heero? Chai is waiting for me, and I need to take my meds."

"Come on, we all have our addictions," Heero snapped, his leg starting to bounce as he studied the guy.

"So why do I need to be there for yours?" Jordan demanded, narrowing his eyes.

Heero looked away, his leg still going as he thought. "You won't make me pass the gates?"

"I don't give a fuck. _I_ need to get home."

The soldier sighed and shook his head. "I wanted to show you my life."

"I was perfectly content keeping the little boy entertained while you fucked his mother," Jordan snapped in irritation.

Heero turned to look at him, frowning.

"When I signed up for this, I thought we'd be back by supper," Jordan added. "I told Chai as much and now you want to drag me to...to _what_? What, exactly, _is_ your addiction?"

"Why don't you just come with me and see, huh? I'll take you back to base, but you should see first."

Jordan studied the man's upset expression, looking out the window as he shook his head. "Why do I have a really bad feeling about this?"

- -

"Who the _fuck_ was that?" Corringer muttered to Eastland as they stared after the SUV with Yuy, Miller, and Doll...and some man driving. "I thought Yuy didn't bring his groupies onto the base with him."

"That was Maxwell," Eastland explained, moving back to sit down at his computer screen.

"Maxwell?" Corringer demanded, blinking at the man. "_The_ Maxwell?"

"One and only Duo Maxwell, death's own playmate," Eastland agreed in amusement. "He goes by Jordan now, though."

"Holy shit, when did he get back?" Corringer breathed, wondering what ripple effects the return would have.

"He's all up-close and personal to that godfather dude that tried to kill Marquise," Eastland shrugged. "Evidently that playmate there doesn't think the guy did it and wants to prove it."

Corringer frowned.

"You should see it, though," Eastland added in amusement, looking up to the man again. "Since all five of those pilots are on base now, they're all starting to talk to each other again. I just about shit my pants when Chang was tailing after Winner and they were talking about some shit on tv or something...I didn't pay much attention to that part, but Chang was carrying Winner's bag while the rich-bitch played some game on his phone."

"Huh," Corringer looked around the room.

"But Winner's not all bright and chipper anymore," Eastland added almost vindictively. "He went out and got _plastered_ again...jackass was _stumbling_ drunk when he got back here with one of his little empath sluts."

"General practice is to get them drunk, not yourself," Corringer noted sarcastically.

Eastland laughed his agreement as he studied the man. "Seriously, though. Where've you been?"

"A...friend of mine...wanted me to visit for a while," Corringer shrugged. "Then I had some business to attend to."

Eastland shook his head, rolling his eyes.

"So...how _is_ Marquise? I was shocked he wasn't dead."

"Chang was right up in the fucker's face...the assassin," Eastland noted viciously. "I can't wait 'til the pissant breaks and fesses up about his boss."

"You like Marquise?" Corringer sounded startled.

"Shit, yeah. He's the one who really fought to get our time off private a year or two ago. As long as we're not in uniform the higher-ups can't breath down our backs, you know? I don't do drugs or anything stupid like that," Eastland went on, "but when I find a girl or three on a long weekend, I'd really rather not be shoved in for STD tests as soon as I walk through the gate. That kind of thing messes with your psyche," he made a circular gesture around his temple.

Corringer laughed, patting the man on the shoulder and straightening up. "I have to get back to the grind at o'dark hundred," he noted. "I need to crash."

"All's well that ends well, huh?"

- -

"You realize that it's one in the morning, don't you?" Chai demanded of Jordan as he walked tiredly onto their front lawn.

"I wanted to come back at seven," he reassured her, shaking his head. "Heero said he'd just stop in his club or whatever, and I didn't see him again until about a half hour ago."

She frowned at him.

He shook his head, stumbling into the house and down the hallway for his medications. Not only had the Remalene worn off, but the pain meds, too. He was sore, tired, and Chai was pissed at him.

"I don't even know where the _fuck_ we were," Jordan added as he served himself some cold dinner. "He offered me his phone at one point, but I was arguing to go home and he put it away and disappeared on me. I'm really sorry."

"Are you okay?" she asked, moving up to his side to touch his forehead. "God, you're burning up..."

"All my meds wore off," he returned, shifting his weight painfully off his right leg again. "I just..." he shook his head. "The club was called Seven Deadly Sins."

She raised her eyebrows at him.

"I stood at the bar and drank soda," he added. "At one point had an order of cheese-sticks, but yeah." He started eating. "Can you get me something to drink, please?"

"You coulda got a cab, too," Chai informed him as she poured him a glass of milk. "You should have called...I coulda got one of the guys to get you."

"I said, I don't know where I was," Jordan returned, shaking his head. "Not only that, but Heero was completely out of it. He couldn't have walked straight if his life depended on it when he decided to show up again."

"So what the fuck was going on?" she glared at him almost like she thought he was lying.

"I don't _know_," Jor repeated, glancing at her as he took the two painkillers and dose of Remalene. "I'm all sorts of confused in general, too. He _fucked_ his girlfriend and when we got in the car he looked like he was having withdrawals or something."

"They said life here wasn't perfect," she noted, shaking her head as she studied him.

"When I wake up," he muttered, "we can go get phones."

"All right," she agreed quietly. "I'm going to bed."

"Yeah, good night."


	15. Bad Habits

**Bad Habits**

Piet was dead.

Jor ran his hand tiredly down his face as Heero paced his kitchen in a rage. The soldier was ranting on anything from lax security to double agents. Any thought that crossed his mind instantly crossed his lips in a half shout that had Chai in her room almost cowering on the bed.

The soldier drew a breath.

"If my girl is crying," Jordan warned him in a dark tone, rising to his feet to limp tiredly toward the master bedroom. He didn't feel like finishing the threat, and knew he didn't actually have to.

"What?" Heero asked blankly, focusing on him.

"You've been shouting for the last hour," Jordan retorted. "Men shouting upsets her."

The man hesitated, then moved to step toward the guy.

"No, just wait," Jordan pushed through the door. Chai was laying in the middle of the mattress and raised her head with very large eyes to meet her boyfriend's.

"Did he leave?" she whispered.

Jordan made a wait gesture to the other man again and closed the door, moving across the room with a bit of a smile. "You're bad."

"He's out there _shouting_ like you could _do_ something about it, though," she protested. "It's…"

"He's frustrated," Jordan cut her off gently. "He knows there's nothing I can do about it, but…come on, the man who did the dirty deed was killed."

She sat up, running her hands along her arms. There was a knock on the door, and she blinked as Heero poked his head in and gave her an apologetic smile.

"Talk like a civilized person," Jordan informed his friend. "You gave me a headache," he yawned largely, dropping back onto the mattress. He was silent a moment, then groaned slightly. "You woke me up _again_…"

"Sorry," Heero apologized quickly, feeling guilty as he moved to sit at the end of the mattress. It had felt good to rant at Jor. No one else really understood his ranting; they seemed to think he'd flipped his lid when he started. Jordan, however, bore with it all and took things away from it. It was always a stream of half-connected facts that Jor could find trails in.

The volume of the ranting had never proved issue before.

"I…"

Chai gave him a level look. "You feelin' civil again?"

"As civil as I get," he shot back.

She made a slight face at him.

"What?" he laughed a bit. "I was kidding…"

The woman sniggered at that, curling up against Jor's middle.

Heero sat a moment, trying to decide if this meant he should leave, then noted that his friend had actually fallen back asleep. He grinned a bit and crawled across the bed to the guy's far side, settling down into the pillow…it was just…so…draining. All of it was. Running around and trying to find people, running around…losing _friends_.

If Baits would just _check-in_…

The soldier didn't realize he fell asleep.

- -

"You _layin'_ on me?" Jordan demanded, blinking blankly at his friend. He had Chai in the crook of his arm and Heero on his chest.

Heero jumped hard and tumbled out of the bed, then sat blinking blankly at the walls as he tried to decide whose house it was and whose voice had spoken…and why anyone cared that he was sleeping on them.

Jordan laughed a bit, rolling from under Chai to brush Heero's hair. "Hey, you okay?"

Heero turned to look at Jordan blankly for a long moment, then started rubbing his eyes as his mind decided it was probably time to work. "Sorry, I just…"

"Your phone was ringing," Jordan informed him. "It was in your pocket…that was pressed against my side."

That got an evilly guilty laugh as Heero focused on his old friend. "Sorry."

"Go talk somewhere else," Chai muttered disconsolately.

Heero started pushing himself to his feet.

"Why don't you go sleep somewhere else?" Jordan retorted.

"It's my room in my house, you told me it was."

"Doesn't mean you get pissy," Jor's tone was obviously a bit upset as he climbed off the bed as well.

"Sorry," she muttered, then buried her head with the pillow.

It was about that point that Heero realized his phone had been ringing. It had woken him up slightly, but he ignored it if he were in a mess of bodies—not that it was usually in his pockets during such situations. That fact hadn't occurred to him as he slept, and he glanced slightly nervously to the limping male who closed the bedroom door as he dug out his phone.

"You sleep good?" Jor offered with a grin, moving around the guy in the small kitchen to dig into the fridge for breakfast foods.

"Woulda been better if we'd done the threesome thing," Heero noted, plucking at the back ring of his friend's belt-loops with his left hand and hitting the button to return Quatre's call with his right.

Jordan turned amazed eyes to his friend's back as a few bit-facts he hadn't told Chai crossed his mind. There were hickies on his friend's throat, and while he'd slept with Shin while they visited her, the girl had only left one mark. He'd seen it and noted it as a matter of course. When Logan and Wayne had followed Heero drunkenly to Jordan's side later that night, they'd also had the markings. Logan's shirt had been on backwards and inside out, and Wayne had taken several moments to attempt to tie his shoe.

"Where the hell are you?" Quatre demanded suddenly, sounding agitated.

"I'm at Jor's," Heero returned. "Sorry about that. I meant to come home after ranting last night, but I upset Chai with my shouting and when Jor went to check on her…"

"You slept at Duo's?" Quatre asked blankly.

"Yeah. When _Jordan_," Heero said the name pointedly, "went to check on Chai, I came in to apologize and he fell asleep…I just kinda…"

"Oh god, Heero, you didn't," Quatre muttered.

"You can't see me so don't try to read me," Heero snapped back.

Jordan raised an eyebrow at that, then stepped around the guy in his personal space—just to see what he'd do. Heero flashed Jor a slight smile, moving his head to the side as Jordan pushed the call button for their apartment's vid. Heero didn't make any other move to get away, and even reached over and looped a finger into Jordan's waistband. "I'm gonna make breakfast here and…" he stopped as he blinked up at Quatre on the screen.

"Tell me," Jordan said in a level voice as Quatre blinked at them in return. It was an old device the re-instated soldier had figured out with Quatre shortly into the after-war peace. If he hit the right timing, that one right instant when guards were down, Quatre could almost read minds.

"I see a lot of bodies," Quatre replied as Heero sat up straighter and let Jordan go, reaching for the vid button. "Bodies and alcohol…and there's no variation between…"

The call ended.

The moment hung between the pair as Jordan realized what Heero had really been doing at the club. Seven Deadly Sins. Lechery. Debauchery.

Heero offered his friend a slightly evil smirk. "Like Wayne and Logan said," he muttered, rising to his feet and moving around the other. "You should come."

- -

It was hard to get work done with Heero and Jordan not speaking to each other, and even worse to see the amusement in Heero's eyes every time he looked up. It was Jordan who was doing the not speaking part, but Heero wasn't fool enough to make himself _look_ fool. He held his peace, and amusement shone through every pore.

The assassination of the assassin had been an inside job. The person who'd done it had been wearing a deep shade of black, so the profiler would have a hard time making any match since the dark materiel would obscure depth perception. To further the insider aspect of it all, the man'd had his back to every camera.

"We'll have to assume that he told us his story," Heero muttered finally. He looked up and around the room, then back to the papers. "We know it was a credit transfer," he added, looking to Jordan. "What else do we know?"

It was work, and the question was directed to the man specifically.

Jordan sighed, studying Heero a long moment, then shifted lower in his chair. "We know jack-shit."

"Intimately," Heero agreed.

Trowa shook his head as Jordan narrowed his eyes at the guy and Wufei looked between them with interest.

"You realize the air is buzzing, don't you?" Quatre asked tiredly, not looking at them.

"Sorry," Heero apologized, "I did him a misfavor, so he's upset with me."

"Like what?" Tro asked, blinking.

"He said we could come home in a half-hour's time and disappeared for four," Jordan retorted.

"Heero," Wufei snapped, focusing on the guy in disbelief.

Heero gave Wufei a long and level look.

"Chai was upset with me, and then he came in shouting," Jordan added. "I'm annoyed with him. I'm trying to control it, Q. I'm really sorry."

Quatre shrugged. "I feel it all the time, it's just not helpful when I can't concentrate."

"Let's move this to my place," Jordan suggested, looking up to the camera. "These walls are too flat-planed and it's too much an institution. I can't think here."

It wasn't a truth, and Trowa knew it. What he didn't know was if it was because of the cameras or the wary change in Jordan in general. He'd stopped trusting.

"Chai can make us some coffee and we can lay this out on my coffee table."

The empath sat up sharply, almost jumping from his seat at the offer, but controlled himself and nodded. "I could use some coffee."

"Coffee sounds good," Trowa agreed languidly, collecting his own papers.

Wufei and Heero shrugged at each other, though Wufei was giving Heero an almost questioning look.

It took them a matter of minutes to sign out and troop to the cars. During most days, they all had their own things that they had to do, so they all had their own vehicle, all except Jordan.

"Ride with me," Heero ordered him quietly as they moved into the open-air. "I want to talk."

"Then let me drive," Jordan retorted.

Heero passed him the keys and Trowa pulled out first. He didn't know what was going on with his friends, but that had stopped being a new development years before. He noticed, and that should be enough.

- -

It irked Jordan that he was more annoyed with Chance's…Heero's…inconsideration than about the murdered assassin. The conversation they'd had in the car, which had included Jordan slamming on the breaks and sending the other against the dashboard, hadn't helped. Ch…Heero had apologized, but there was something lacking about the entire matter that made focusing hard.

After a half hour of Quatre half-collapsed on the couch near Chai, he perked up and started listening to conversation again. They compared what they did know on the matter, the technical facts, then started reasoning out the later bits.

"I bet you it wasn't either of them," Jordan noted, making a light scribble on the bottom of a page with his pencil and not looking at anyone. "I bet you it's someone else altogether."

Quatre sniggered very slightly, looking around at the others, then sniggered more.

"What?" Wufei asked him, blinking.

"I don't feel it," Quatre muttered, biting one lip. "I can see he's all upset, and I don't feel it," he sniggered again.

"Are you okay?" Wufei demanded instantly, sitting forward worriedly.

"Oh," Heero realized, blinking at him, then across to Trowa. "We forgot to mention…Chai's got some quieting abilities."

They stared at him, then looked to the girl—she'd fallen asleep, but evidently that didn't end whatever she was doing.

"You think it's funny that you can't feel his pain?" Trowa asked in a bemused tone.

Quatre sniggered again, studying his expression. "I can tell how you'll be feeling about that…but I don't feel it…"

"Wow, he's an asshole," Wufei noted, looking back to Heero. "I never realized that."

"Seriously?" Heero was amazed.

"Hey!" Quatre protested…and started to laugh.

- -

"Would you _knock_ it off?" Wufei muttered to Quatre as he moved into Une's office, rubbing his arm.

Quatre punched him again.

Wufei muttered some unfriendly things as Quatre drank in his expression with Chai a step behind. Jordan followed his girlfriend, and Heero moved to stand directly in front of Une as if the group weren't behind him.

"So?" Une muttered, setting her coffee cup down.

"Most likely thing," Heero returned, "is that he met with the person who hired him in person, they orchestrated the credit transfer together, and had no intentions of seeing one another again."

Quatre punched Wufei's arm again.

"Son of a…" Wufei restrained himself from attacking the other stepping at him warningly and wondering at the change. When they had this sort of altercation normally, Quatre would flinch back from the intended threat. Now, though, his eyes were sparkling and he didn't seem to care.

"What's going on?" Une demanded in the tone of a mother noticing quiet disagreements.

Wufei opened his mouth to speak, but Jordan took the moment to shove Chai toward the woman.

When Chai was moved five feet from him, Quatre hissed and flinched hard, dancing back from Wufei's arms reach with a sort of deer-in-the-headlights look.

"I brought you some cookies," Chai muttered smoothly, flowing with the transition to set the plate in front of the woman.

"They even taste good," Trowa noted.

Chai giggled, turning to smack at him.

"Cookies?" Une perked up.

Chai grinned. "I'll wait in the waiting room, all right? I don't feel any particular need to sit through these talks."

"We'll make it short," Une reassured her, watching as she and Quatre exchanged an almost secret look. She narrowed her eyes, noting that Jordan and Heero were talking quietly together and the male did not see.

"So," Wufei added, moving forward, "we need to know how the profiling is getting on."

- -

Jon ran a nervous hand through his hair as he studied the tabletop. He didn't want to bring Jordan's attention to the fact that someone might not be so law abiding as they were supposed to be. Two of four men who'd questioned him had left several bruises on his chest and thighs, mostly boots for his legs. He hurt and didn't want to have to deal with Jordan's questioning on the two men who'd done it. He didn't want to deal with Jordan's anger on the matter, because he knew Jor would be _pissed_.

Corringer and Baerinum.

The nametags were still strong in his memory.

"What's the matter with you?" Jordan demanded, moving with coffee cups to sit by his friend again at the couch. "I knew they'd keep you locked up a few days, but you're acting like they beat you or something."

Jon forced a laugh and took his cup without meeting his friend's eyes.

"Anyway," Jordan muttered, getting back to his story. "We've found that Quatre with a quieting creates a sort of havoc that doesn't help us get work done. We spent three or four hours here, and the only thing he did was hit Daniel."

"Wufei," Jon corrected.

"Same damn difference," Jor shook his head, extending his right leg and pulling up his pant-leg to study the now mostly healed wound.

"Crap," Jon noted, also looking it over.

"I know, Remalene sucks to be on, but the effects are…somewhat pleasing."

"When you gonna be done with it?" Jon muttered, looking up to his friend's eyes. "Your hair is already shaggy."

"Oh yeah," Jordan reached up and wondered at the time that had past. It had been what? Two weeks, three weeks? Not quite three weeks since he'd first seen Chance perched at the bar, and over a week since he'd moved back onto base. His wound, a wound that should have had him on his ass for a month, was days away from healing.

"Jordan?" Jon muttered, still not quite looking at him. "Is beating allowed?"

"Why? Someone threatening you?"

Jon wished he hadn't asked the question and shrugged, making sure there was a smile in his eyes as he met Jor's again. "I just want to know what I can throw back."

"Let me think," Jordan muttered. "There are places in Brazil and stuff that allow beatings…minor, nothing permanent. But…no. Not in the states. You can't use physical force in America." He grinned at his friend as he fixed his pant leg again. "What you do is tell'em they can beat you if they take you across the lines, then realize that you're an American citizen and they can't take you against your will."

Jon smiled at that, feeling the bruises again and wondering if the rules had changed in the past five years. He rubbed the particularly deep bruise on his thigh.

"Even before the fucker got killed," Jordan added, sitting back to sip at his cup, "he was a dead end. He gave too many stories for us to know which were truth or fiction. He was caught, so he knew he'd get no back up or escape route. He was probably praying every night that the guards were ever-vigilant."

"No use keeping an assassin alive when he knows your face," Jon agreed, poking at the edge of the bruise. It hurt. He needed to stop touching it, but it was a strange thing…

"You still didn't do it, right?" Jor muttered, watching his friend's hands.

"Of course not," Jon snapped, smacking his hands onto his thighs and glowering. "I told you, Marquise is the only one I like on that fucked-up panel."

The panel.

Jordan rubbed at his nose as he nodded, thinking about that. Jon's story didn't extend beyond the panel. He wasn't thinking of a major power-play.

Jon poked at the bruises again, then blinked as Jordan moved off his chair and directly next to him on the couch. For a brief moment he wondered if he was fantasizing again, because Jordan was reaching for his pants…

"What is this?" Jordan demanded levelly, noting the horseshoe shape of a very deep bruise.

"Hey!" Jon protested a bit belatedly, shifting to pull away. He started to fight at Jordan then when his friend started to remove his shirt.

"What is this?" Jordan repeated a bit more demandingly, throwing the shirt aside.

"You know," Chance noted from the door, "I almost want to know…"

Jordan focused up at his old friend, then drug Jon to his feet so the bruising was in evidence.

"Burned alive," he swore quietly, moving around the couch to study the things. He met Jon's eyes.

"He's been acting distant all day," Jor explained. "He kept poking at his legs, and if I moved too fast he jumped."

"Nervous," Heero noted, still staring at the bruises. "Damn," he added, touching some of them lightly. "Burned alive…"

"Burned alive?" Jon muttered uncertainly. He really wanted his clothing back.

"Camera," Heero snapped at Jordan, taking out his phone and taking a long shot with it.

"Hey!" Jon protested.

"Dictate," Heero added. "The time is," he added, glancing to his watch, "Thirteen-hundred hours. I entered the Maxwell personal residence to find Maxwell removing articles of clothing from Breer. Bruises became evident quickly and Breer's manner has changed entirely…"

Jon felt incredibly embarrassed to have the photographs taken. It would have been entirely different if they hadn't been completely businesslike over the matter. He was cajoled into making a statement into Heero's phone, and when Jordan finally allowed him to pull his pants back on, his eyes were extremely sad.

"Can I go now?" Jon muttered, noting that he hadn't checked in.

"Une?" Heero muttered, studying the man's face as Jordan passed him back his shirt. "Can you get me the names of the people who questioned Breer? All right," Heero ran a hand through his hair as he paced off a few steps. "Corringer," he agreed, "Baerinum, Vagrant…yes, that's what I said, Vagrant. Tall asshole with strong hands…huh? Shit, Une, that's not even…okay. Meal," Heero actually laughed. "You know we have our own names for half the people on the base. It's our code-talking…all right. Thanks a lot…uh-huh. Mm, I should warn you that we might have blood." He snapped his phone closed while Une's voice was still audible, looking to Jordan.

"Shouldn't you…tell her?" Jon asked, swallowing slightly.

"We will," Jordan reassured the man, patting his shoulder as he started away. "Don't worry, we will."

"It wasn't Browning or Liasco," Jon blurted quickly. "They were nice to me."

"Yeah," Heero agreed easily. "Vagrant and Meal love me to pieces, and I noted in passing that you're my friend."

"Who did that one?" Jordan muttered, indicating the bruise on his friend's thigh. "The big one?"

"I…don't…"

"He had his foot about three inches from your cock," Jordan snapped at him. "There's no way you didn't know which one he was."

"Just don't get yourself in trouble," Jon muttered. "Take the legal…"

"They're the kind of guys that do what they're told and keep their heads low," Chance snapped. "They'd get a mild reprimand and sent on their way—they'd keep us away, too."

"But you'll…"

"Oh, I really don't _like_ Corringer," Heero muttered. "I really _really_ don't like him."

"Who did it, Jon?" Jordan insisted.

"Baerinum," Jon admitted, ducking his head.

"He's mine," Jordan informed Heero.

Heero's eyes sparkled as he realized that Jordan was as much up for blood as he himself was. "You be my god?" Heero teased. "You be my sun?"

Breer blinked at him.

"Worship me, I'll be your moon," Jordan agreed, breezing toward the front door.

"You guys, come on," Jon insisted, realizing he shouldn't just let them do this.

Heero had a sort of evil smirk on his lips as he stopped in the door, leaning against the doorjamb as Jordan hesitated on the porch.

"Just…" Jon persisted, attempting to move around the soldier.

"When my way stops working," Jordan noted, starting down the stairs, "I'll do it your way."

"Jordan…"

Heero snapped his teeth in Jon's face, the evil grin still firmly lighting up his expression.

"What are you…" Jon started.

"My god had spoken," Heero informed him, shoving back at his stomach in an area where there were no bruises. He hoped Jon appreciated that he thought about it, but Jordan was climbing into his SUV, and that meant it was time to go.

"What the…" Jon started again…and the door closed in his face. "What the fuck is wrong with that one," Jon breathed, settling back a step or two.

He realized that he probably didn't _want_ to know.


	16. Rules of the Game

**Rules of the Game**

"Son of a _bitch_!" Corringer was tackled to the ground, not expecting the sudden weight on his back, he reeled with it a moment and a severe pain shot down his spine. It took him a second to get a grip on the person, and then he slammed the body over his shoulder…and cried out, trying to back away, as he realized it was Yuy.

The instant movement was still not fast enough, and he stumbled slightly, nearly falling, as the man's foot impacted against his face. He could think of no immediate blasphemy to Yuy's person, and though they'd clashed several times, it had never been unprovoked—or had never _seemed_ unprovoked…and then he saw Maxwell. The one and only Duo Maxwell, god of death and Satan's playmate…Eastland had so many names for the man…

And the god was up for blood.

It didn't matter that he didn't know what he'd done to provoke the pair. He was just grateful for Maxwell's restraint when he noticed that the pagan really wanted to join in the beating—it _was_ just a beating. Corringer could defend himself mostly against Yuy's attacks, but not entirely. There was still a huge gap of physical performance between the "obedient" soldier…and the "perfect" one.

But Yuy wasn't perfect anymore, was he?

When Yuy'd had his fill of blood, and Corringer had given up entirely, he stood over the downed man and glared into his eyes. "If you ever beat a fuckin' prisoner again, I swear I'll fuckin' kill you."

_"He's all up-close and personal to that godfather dude that tried to kill Marquise…"_

Corringer gasped painfully as the man stood straight and turned a searching look onto his companion.

"Is he still conscious?" the man asked…his voice was dark and cold. Uncaring.

It occurred to Corringer that his life didn't matter to the man…to death's playmate…

He tensed for the blow…the intense pain that would send him into darkness before he woke up with people around him…if he woke up.

"Forgive me, oh my god," Yuy muttered, running his hands through his hair as he closed his eyes. "The rules of man forbid," he stood waiting for the final word, hands buried in the hair at the back of his head, elbows up.

The fucker honestly looked like he was praying.

"You're fucking insane," Corringer gasped, not understanding Yuy. He didn't get how a man could _pray_ to a friend…why it'd even cross his mind to _do_ it.

"Hm," Maxwell's tone didn't change in the slightest.

Actual fear washed through Corringer's system as he heard steps approaching. They went silent too far away, and he cracked his eyes open again to see that Yuy'd lowered his arms and was studying him with that trade-mark smirk, a cocky smirk…no man alive could mirror that smirk or even hint at it. Maxwell was directly beside him.

"You are bound by the laws of man?" Maxwell muttered, seeming to not need to blink.

Yuy started laughing, shoving the guy back a few steps. "We're done here," he muttered, "Let's go find Baerinum."

"Good," the word was almost a purr as Maxwell studied Corringer and Yuy disappeared…

"God," Corringer hissed, closing his eyes as some of the worse pain receded. It occurred to him the moment after he'd said it that it could be misperceived, but the word'd passed his lips before he could help it. "Fuck," he added, "don't knock me out…please…"

Maxwell laughed evilly, moving to lean over the man so they were eye to eye. "I don't know you," he whispered. "I don't _care_ about you, and I probably don't even fucking _like_ you. Keep your head down when I'm in the room…please."

"You can't intimidate me," Corringer hissed at him, waiting for the pain that would signify the end of the conversation.

"Jor," Yuy called from the car. "Let's go. Longer he has to recover the quicker he'll call Baerinum."

A car door slammed, then two. Matthew Corringer opened his eyes and watched as Yuy's black SUV slid almost silently by on the street.

"You okay?" someone demanded, running out from a shop. "Oh my god, are you all right?"

"You saw all of that?" Corringer demanded, focusing on the wide-eyed man.

The guy nodded.

Corringer laughed mirthlessly, closing his eyes again. "Thanks for the help."

- -

"Come on, Jor," Yuy muttered almost languidly, "you can't do that."

"I still haven't heard a good enough reason," Maxwell muttered.

Baerinum blinked at the pair of males as he wondered where they'd come from. He was heading toward the base commons, and the path he was on was usually empty. The two continued arguing almost good naturedly as they moved closer behind him, and Baerinum pulled his phone as it started to vibrate.

The two stopped talking, focusing on him sharply—they were _right_ behind him…

"Yeah?" he muttered, slightly unnerved.

"At least he had good enough manners to keep it on vibrate," Yuy noted.

"Fuck…Baerinum," Corringer sounded pained as he heard Yuy's words. "Fuck…_run_."

Maxwell's laugh was evil…and Baerinum's phone flew through the air as Yuy started laughing…he barely managed to shield his face from being slammed into the sidewalk as part of the reason for Corringer's call became clear in his mind.

_But what did I **do**?_

- -

There was blood on his shirt.

Une stared at Jordan in disbelief as he and Heero were led, handcuffed, into her office.

There was blood on Jordan's shirt.

"Une," Edward muttered, seeming nervous. The pilots weren't fighting him, but he knew they could probably kill him, even _while_ handcuffed…probably _with_ the handcuffs, actually. "There was an altercation." He stopped behind them when they decided to stop walking.

"With who?" Une demanded, rising to her feet as she noted the two males watching her with an almost predatory look. Amused and predatory.

"Corringer and Baerinum," Edward returned. "Two separate attacks. Baerinum is in the hospital."

Jordan's smile flashed evilly before it receded again into his expressionless coldness.

"I think it's amazing Baerinum's not dead," Heero added, looking between the rest as he raised his phone into view and flicked it open.

Edward stared at his un-cuffed hands, then focused on Une in a moment of frozen uncertainty. He was completely willing to be scared of Yuy on a one-to-one basis, and with Maxwell at his side again the old horror-stories were starting to surface…

Une sighed in exasperation as Maxwell eyed the escort…and took the phone.

- -

"So this is amusing," Jordan noted as he set his folder in front of everyone in the room. "Terry's list of associates or whatever you wanna call it…the people who may have had access to his accounts…"

Heero started snickering.

"Why is that funny?" Quatre muttered, pulling the paper to him.

"Well, we've managed to narrow down our suspects outside of Terry and Jon," Jordan explained, indicating the sheet. "There's not a whole lot there, but there's something to be said about Corringer's name being on that list."

"Or so you think."

"Mat's political motivations are a bit slim," Trowa muttered, looking between them. "He donates to his causes like a good citizen, and organizes crap here and there, but it's not very likely that he'd have tried to kill Zechs."

"I haven't talked to Zechs yet," Jordan noted, looking around the room. "And I haven't talked to Shifton."

"You're not _going_ to talk to Shifton," Heero reminded him.

Jordan gave him a humorless smile.

"Weren't you two fighting?" Wufei muttered, pulling his toothpick from his mouth and looking between them.

"Go smoke," Heero ordered him with a flick of his hand. "I'm tired of seeing that toothpick."

Wufei's expression became somewhat hurt.

"Come on," Jor muttered, rising. "I need a smoke."

"You smoke?" Heero demanded.

"Once in a blue moon," Jordan agreed as Wufei rose a bit more happily from his seat. "Go ahead and keep going without us," he winked at Chai.

Chai watched her boyfriend curiously as he moved onto the front porch. He wasn't lying when he said he only smoked once in a blue moon. Smoking was a social device, and it meant that he wanted to get Wufei alone. There was no other way to explain it…and the rest of the group didn't even realize it.

When Quatre glanced at her curiously, Chai realized that she needed to let it slide—he would tell her when she asked.

- -

"Care to explain something to me?" Trowa asked Heero curiously as they moved together slowly down a hall two days or so after the fights with Jon's assailants.

"Depends on what needs explaining," Heero returned, giving him a curious look. "I don't have long. I have to go to trial."

"Trial?"

"I attacked Corringer," Heero reminded him. "I've done it enough now that they're gonna try and start getting after me for it. I think Une is even realizing that she shouldn't have let me get away with it to begin with."

"So you'll learn no lesson?"

"Lessons learned aren't always the intended lessons."

"What have you been _reading_ lately?" Tro demanded in amusement. Heero'd been speaking in odd patterns and coming up with odd thoughts since the fight. It was something that'd happen when he'd really get into a book…

Heero grinned at him. "Nothing. What did you need explained?"

Tro studied him seriously as the initial irritation Jordan had been displaying, and then the ride the pair had shared that had taken five or more minutes longer than it should have. He considered the reasoning behind the fight, but that was easily explained…

Heero studied him a long moment, then looked to the ceiling. "What has Wufei said to you about what we did when I talked him into going out with me?"

"Hm," Trowa considered the question a long moment. "He said you were as fucked up as he thought you were, and I'd probably have more fun with you than he did."

Heero nodded, tilting his head at the guy. "What has Q said to you about what he sees?"

"About you?" Trowa considered the question again, then shrugged. "He said he wouldn't tell me unless you wanted him to, and he knew you didn't want him to."

"Did he know what I go do?"

"His eyes looked bewildered," Tro shrugged. "Why?"

"Seven Deadly Sins has some interesting back-room entertainments."

"You talking raves or orgies?"

"I'm never gone long enough for a rave, Tro," Heero noted, meeting his eyes.

Trowa smirked very slowly.

"I left Jor at the bar," he added. "I knew he wouldn't have joined, and didn't want to deal with him possibly disapproving."

"And that pissed him off because he was stuck with you when he was in pain and on Remalene. Nice."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Heero shrugged slightly.

"Okay, that's done with. Why did you take so much longer to get back to his house that day?"

"I wanted to see what he thought about my little habit," Heero shrugged very slightly. "I managed to piss him off so he slammed on the breaks. It took a while to get him moving again."

"Ah…so, why do you keep talking like that?"

"Like what?"

"Lessons learned aren't always the lessons…whatever you just said…that crap."

Heero smirked and looked back to him.

"You interact like that," Tro reminded him. "You get into weird little…swells."

"The old jokes," Heero shrugged. "I have a god again…a god I can believe in."

"Oh!" Trowa remembered the game and realized he'd seen it several times over in the past day or so. Duo had liked to refer to himself as the god of death for a time after the wars…and since they were soldiers, it had been decided that he was their god. They all muttered that it was his will or whim that decided who died on a battlefield, and in peace-times, it had been an easy thing to say. No one was dying, no one was battling. Battlefields weren't won or lost.

The bits of Heero that were ruined, though, the remnants of his childhood…they'd taken the game several steps further. He didn't believe that Jordan was a god, but he could mouth the prayers just like any good Christian could.

"And they call _me_ fay," Trowa noted sarcastically.

Heero gave him an amused look. "He was pissed at me, but when I saw Jon's bruises, we were put back on the same page. I have my god and my sun."

"You mean moon?" Trowa asked amusedly, shaking his head. "You two are fucked up, you realize that, don't you?"

Heero sniggered as he pushed from the building and Trowa stopped inside it. They exchanged a brief amused look, but Heero's expression clouded. He stopped walking to pull his phone from his pocket. His expression changed to excited as he set the receiver to his ear…but the look darkened into amazement, then fear.

- -

"I knew he wasn't back for a reason," Heero ranted, pacing around Jordan's living room as Jordan typed with a single-minded focus. "It's not like him to force a vacation and it's not like him to abandon…"

"Number," Jordan ordered.

Heero repeated it. "I'm grateful you have the patience to try and track a cell-phone." His tone was slightly distant as he said it. "I can't sit down, I can't stop moving. Everything is moving around us and it all suggests a coup…"

Jordan looked up to him, wondering if he realized he was speaking aloud. It'd been years since they'd been together for Heero to have a slip like that, but it hadn't been completely uncommon before…coup?

"How the fuck am I supposed to deal with a _coup_?" He added, still moving in agitation.

"It's us now," Jordan reminded him very quietly.

The words didn't catch Heero's attention. "There are _maybe_ twenty people who knew of the actual line of power. If President Wilkon were assassinated, the power would fall to the vice President Clyde Zerone." He thought. "Next is Zechs, and then Zachary. Following Zach had been Blunt, a busy body of a woman who still knew everything; she died in a car accident in January on ice. Rudd was a calm woman who'd been made even calmer at the onset of some fatal disease, and she died in the hospital in February. Kante…Kante was the actual thing that had perked up ears…"

"How'd he die?" Jordan muttered, not looking up.

"What?" Heero asked blankly, turning to look at the guy.

"How'd Kante die?" Jordan repeated his question, raising his eyes.

"I was talking out loud?"

"No, I'm reading your mind," Jordan retorted, though he was amused that he'd been right.

"Um…" Heero almost believed it. He really thought he'd been thinking the list. It wasn't the first time it'd happened, though. Not with Jordan. "He had some weird accident that seemed like chance. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, just perfect enough of a wrong time that it wasn't likely it was a coincidence."

"Stray-shot?" Jor suggested.

"No," Heero said quietly. "Avalanche. It was all over the news."

Jordan raised his eyes to Heero's and studied him a long moment, then shook his head and focused again.

"So…Beedus and Baits have disappeared…and no one but us should have known who all it was."

"Who is us?"

"The five…" Heero hesitated. "The four of us," he corrected himself. "Zechs himself…the head of central intelligence and one or two of his underlings…investigation. I'm not entirely sure who all…but no general soldiers…no one outside the officer's club."

"Officer's club?"

Heero smiled slightly. "You're part of it, when you get settled back in. You can find out more then."

"How many names on our list are in the club?"

"None," Heero said flatly. "Where's Chai?"

"Q wanted to go into the shopping area and not feel anything again," Jor shrugged. "I figure she's well entertained with him begging after her like a puppy and Jon floating around in amusement."

"You may want to watch how much she's seen without you," the soldier moved to sit tiredly beside his friend. "She's an Angels girl, and people who know that may get the wrong idea."

"Or realize that I'm completely comfortable with her running around with anyone but Trowa."

"What?"

"He defers to her too much," Jordan shrugged, glancing sidelong. "I don't think he does it intentionally, but the rest of you are normal with her. I wouldn't question either of them for the world, but that just makes me antsy…the idea."

Heero chuckled, then leaned sideways against his arm to study the screen.

Jordan didn't want to talk more about the thoughts that had crossed his mind from Tro's expressions. He knew they were his own issues, and didn't want to put doubts in Heero's mind. He pursed his lips a moment, then hit another key. "You bi or what?"

"Or what," Heero agreed.

"I don't get that."

"I don't have an active interest in males," Heero returned. "The back-room thing…we get a shot of heavy alcohol and strip down while it soaks in…then join the mass. One body melts into another and it's really easy to lose track of yourself."

"Why do you do it?"

"It's…it doesn't matter who you are or where you're from. You're all just _there_ and equal. Rich and poor, good lookin' or feo…it's just…" he trailed off, thinking about it. "I don't know why I do it anymore."

"Is Shin really your girl?" Jordan hazarded. "Or just some orgy chick you allow to prostitute herself for you?"

"She's somewhere in between," he muttered. "I want to be with her and…and help her raise little Zach, but…"

"Is that Baits' boy?"

"No," he reassured his friend. "But…it's a way to differentiate."

"Call him Chip."

"Yeah…Chip…I think I love her, but I can't convince her of it."

"I'm sure your orgy spells help her believe in you faithfully."

"I lost faith a long time ago, Duo," he said very quietly.

"I'm not Duo," Jordan noted. "Duo died."

"And took my faith with him, huh?" Heero's eyes were focused intently on the screen.

Jordan looked down at him a moment, then looked away. "I'm sorry."

"Five years," Heero noted, "and not even a message saying you miss me."

"I typed it," Jordan returned. "I typed it so many times it's not funny."

"I don't believe you."

"I never sent it," Jordan agreed. "I wrote it in a letter, but that would have been traceable. I fussed that I didn't have the right kind of programs to scramble my code, I worried that the words said where I was…you know me. You coulda figured it out. I worried that you'd go down there looking for me and get killed. It was genuine at first."

"I don't believe you," Heero repeated quietly.

"Five years is a long time," Jordan reminded him. "I missed that perfect moment…but I won't do it again. I was living in a hell and I was scared. My life could have ended in some back alley for the few dollars in my wallet…or if someone decided they wanted Chai and I was in the way. Things got confusing."

"It's her fault," Heero agreed, finally blinking. "If you hadn't found her you'd have come back…or you'd have ran on and let us know you were around."

"Yeah."

"Will you come with me when I find where he's at?"

"For a minute I thought you were asking me to stay behind."

"I want Logan to come…me you and Logan like old times? Wayne'll hang out and distract Quatre and Tro? Wufei will pace and wait for our panic attack and come swooping in like a hawk on a grounded salmon?"

Jordan grinned, changing his focus to look at his friend again.

"I'll have my sun and we'll have his charm…and your serpent's tongue will seal the deal."

"Yeah," Jordan agreed, typing in more as he studied the screen himself. "My serpent's tongue…"

- -

The house was empty…no. The house _looked_ empty. Jordan noted that Quatre's abilities would have come in handy at that point, but at the same time it'd taken him ten hours to find the mobile.

That didn't mean Baits would still be there.

They moved silently, Heero, Logan, and Jordan. They moved up around the house silently and watched. It was an odd sensation to sneak up on a house that didn't seem to have anyone in it…but even Quatre could be fooled.

"Clear," came a whisper from the back door and Jordan darted around the house to join Heero as Logan came from the far side. Both were shaking their heads that they hadn't seen anyone inside the two-story building.

"Let's go," Logan added, moving between the pair and silently along the kitchen counter.

Jordan imagined they'd look pretty stupid running through an empty house with weapons in hand and a swat team in the wings. The group was Heero's, and Jordan realized it was the same group that had come after Jon in Angels.

Was he going to train a swat team? Was that part of why his friends had drifted apart?

"Clear," he whispered, looking an empty dining room over. He moved into it to double-check his correct assumption, then made sure there were no doors off of it as Heero moved up the hall to look up the stairs.

"I hate searching empty houses," Logan whispered almost soundlessly. "It makes me feel stupid."

That got him a raucous grin as Jordan moved into the hall as well, searching the room opposite from Heero's. As he looked, he also searched for any letters or paperwork that had been left out. Their cameras were recording wherever they looked, so that sort of thing was important to focus on.

The call of clear came again and Heero moved to the door to the room himself, studying Jordan.

"This floor is clear," Heero noted, looking around to Logan. He kept his voice low, but not the near soundless whisper they'd been using. "Now we get to play on the stairs."

A groan echoed down the hall and they all stopped to look at each other.

"Let's go," Logan whispered, moving up the stairs almost silently. They heard no more noise as they ascended, and as they reached the top and Logan moved into the first room, another groan echoed down the hall, like someone was trying not to cry.

"Check that room," Heero ordered Jordan, pointing at the room before the final…the one where the noise was coming from. "Zachary!" Heero's shout was almost scared as the man lost all pretense at remaining unfound.

Jordan looked the empty room he was in over, then moved into the hall to see Logan with the same almost perplexed expression.

"Oh my god," Heero was muttering as quick movements sounded. "You're…oh god…"

"It's gonna blow," Logan whispered, his gun lowering as he looked around. "Heero!" he half shouted, darting down the hall.

"Pull back," Jordan ordered into his mic as he darted into the room as well…and saw a man covered in blood laying on a bed. "Pull back _now_!"

There was instant radio chaos as Jordan shoved Heero aside to look at the bullet-wound. He shook his head and cast a silent prayer to any god listening as he pulled the man off the bed, wrapped in the sheet. He felt arms cling around him as he ran for the window, and before he could reach it there was the half-deafening sound of gunshots before the glass shattered…it was a large window.

_Please let me land this…_

They flew threw the air as a small light flickered on a small machine they'd ignored.

Logan faltered slightly on the dew-wet grass and Heero assisted him as they full-out _ran_ toward the road…

The building exploded.


	17. Initial Exposure

**Initial Exposure**

"I hate intensive," Heero grumbled to Jordan, rolling over on his mattress. "Makes me sick to my stomach every time."

"You're the one who couldn't say for certain who the last three people you screwed was," Jordan noted teasingly.

"Yeah, yeah, asshole, laugh it up."

"I'm gonna pump you with more pain-killer," Jordan informed him. "You're being pissy."

That got him a level look.

"Sit back _down_, Maxwell," Doctor Morris muttered in agitation as he moved into the room the two former pilots were sharing. "Honestly…"

"Sorry," Jordan apologized, moving to sit on his bed again, then lean over and lay down.

Heero had taken more of the blast than either Logan or Jordan. Jordan'd gotten directly behind Logan when the explosion happened, so on top of taking more of the blast than the man, he'd also shielded both Logan and Baits from the fall-out. Heero'd been thrown next to Jordan in the grass, and Logan was pissed at both of them for it.

"You two drive me insane," Morris added petulantly as he moved up to Heero's bedside and started swabbing the guy's arm. "Can't you ever go out and do something without needing Remalene, Yuy?"

"It wasn't _my_ fault!" Heero protested. "I take it I'm clean?"

"This is an antibiotic," Morris muttered, shoving the needle in. "We'll give it a few minutes to start working, then we'll give you the Remalene. Why are you awake?" he added the question to Jordan.

"I've been taking Remalene for a week or so…but I am getting tired."

"So you stand next to Yuy and what? Talk about the weather?"

"I was gonna increase his drip," Jordan noted with a grin. "He bitches worse'n a girlfriend."

Morris grinned at that.

Heero tsked, then sighed. "What do I have?"

"Minor STD," Morris retorted. "I'm not gonna ask and suggest you don't tell me."

Heero snorted.

"That's nasty," Jordan informed his friend.

"Fuck you," Heero muttered easily.

"I'm glad to have you back, Maxwell," Morris muttered, smirking at the pilot. "Now go to sleep."

Jordan flashed the man a slight grin and closed his eyes. That was a good idea.

- -

Corringer rubbed at his sore arm as he moved down the walkway toward Eastland's post. It'd been three days since Yuy had attacked him, and the trial for it had proceeded as it always had. They'd been reprimanded and their weekend leave had been suspended for two weeks.

"You look like shit," Duty noted, looking out at the guy with a grin. "What happened to you?"

"Yuy," Mat returned, sighing as he moved into the place. "You can have guests?"

"Only for a bit," Eastland shrugged, studying the guy. "What happened?"

"I managed to forget your warning about Maxwell being friends with the resident god-father," Mat explained. "I was told to question him about Piet, and I did it…and he ended up bruised for it."

"You _know_ better'n that shit," Duty noted, shaking his head. "You're a fuckin' moron sometimes, I swear."

"Thanks," Mat sat in the free chair beside the gate-guard. "Anything interesting going on here?"

"Well, Yuy and Maxwell went and saved Baits," Eastland shrugged. "No one knew he'd been nabbed, but they saved him all the same. We're closing down the base now. No one in or out."

"Saved?" Corringer demanded, his heart stopping.

"Yeah, you didn't hear? Shit, Mat, it's been announced for the last twenty minutes. Where you been hiding?"

"Under a rock to keep of those fuckers' radars."

Duty grinned appreciatively, then indicated the compound. "I have back-up men coming here in a while…they're gonna start pulling leaders into bases and crap, too."

"Why?"

Duty shrugged. "They didn't give us the full details, but I gather some sort of coup attempt's been sniffed out. Baits is in intensive care, and they're not entirely sure he won't die. They're pumping him with Remalene, anyway. He told that some guys in masks ambushed him and took him to some house a week or something ago. The morons didn't take his phone from him, though…"

"His phone?" Mat asked, blinking several times.

"Some oversight, huh?" the soldier grinned impishly. "He called Yuy earlier, and he tracked the phone down. He took Maxwell, and they went to see what they could find."

"And they didn't die? Either of them? Baits is alive?"

"So is Doll," Duty agreed. "But Doll is all pissed. I guess when the explosion happened…shit, those fuckers are insane. You have no idea _how_ insane…they frickin' _jumped_ from the second story window and _**landed**_ that shit! Can you believe it?"

Corringer was staring at him in utter disbelief.

"Maxwell was carrying Baits and Doll was in front, so Maxwell landed on Doll and shielded him from the explosion. He and Yuy are pretty fucked up, I guess. Their backs and shit…but Doll made it out with one or two abrasions."

"_Logan_ Doll?" Corringer demanded, thinking of Yuy's long-time friend with some irritation.

"The one and only," Eastland agreed.

"I bet they'd be pissed if something happened to Doll, huh?" Mat added, looking to the floor.

"Doll's their best friend, well, one of," Duty agreed, studying him. "You look a little pale, man. You okay?"

Corringer nodded, rising to his feet as he saw a group of men trooping toward the gatehouse with weapons. "What were you saying about a coup?"

"Baits and Marquise," Duty muttered, studying him. "The base will be officially closed as soon as those guys get here," he indicated the men.

"Shit," Corringer glanced toward the open gates with the knowledge that he couldn't leave. He may have befriended Duty, but if it weren't a life or death matter, the man wouldn't disobey his orders. "Damn…"

"You better go, I have to play leader now," Duty added. "I'll catch you after my shift or something."

"Yeah, I'll talk to you later, I guess…" Corringer hesitated in the door, then moved onto base major.

The house had exploded and no one had died…someone had stopped the assassin before he could take out Marquise…but those others were still dead…and Beedus was still gone.

"Hey!" Duty called from the door, grinning slightly at his friend. "All's well that ends well!"

"Yeah, cheers," Mat agreed with a fake smile. "I'll drink one for ya."

Eastland laughed. "Thanks."

- -

It was quiet.

Jordan walked along the outside of the armored car with a large gun in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other. His eyes were everywhere as he and the other lucky soldiers picked for the duty ranged a good five feet or from the car. He could feel someone watching him, and wondered who it was. The attention bordered on hostile.

"Maxwell," Heero's voice came over the radio, "smile, why don't you? Our guest probably isn't too happy."

Jordan grinned slightly, rolling his eyes as he wondered why they'd been selected to escort the car when they'd both been knocked out on an almost dangerously high dosage of Remalene for a night. The smaller wounds were gone entirely, and Jor was almost certain his hair had grown an inch. That still left large bruises and abrasions, albeit not as large as the initial blast had made them. He glanced toward the armored vehicle, wondering who was inside of it again. No one knew which official was going where…aside from the CIA or some shit. Internal Affairs? Were those even valid terms anymore?

To salvage any possible names from the almighty list Heero kept mentioning, many minor officials were being escorted to bases along with the people who actually mattered. They themselves didn't really realize where they stood.

The thing that made the reinstated soldier sick to his stomach was that he _knew_ the person in the car was a big-wig. On top of that Terry Shifton was tenth in line…and Zachary Baits himself.

Someone knew that Baits was fourth in line…or was it fifth? Did they realize that Terry Shifton was? Or that the person in the car?

Quatre moved into view on one side, and Jordan raised the weapon warningly. He didn't point it at his friend, but no one was supposed to get as close as Quatre even was.

"Sorry," Quatre called, keeping pace with him. "I was told to let you know that everything is ready. They figured it'd be safer to send someone you know over so you didn't shoot the messenger."

"Great," Jordan thanked him with a wry grin. "Get out of here before someone panics."

Quatre flashed him a grin, then disappeared from where he'd come from.

"What was that?" Heero demanded.

"Winner says everything's ready," Jordan replied easily. "Do me a huge favor and get me a drink, huh?"

"Okay," Heero muttered. "We're _on_ Remalene and high dosages of pain killers. You are _not_ to have alcohol."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Is the chatter necessary?" someone random demanded.

"Look at it this way," Heero started.

"It's when we're quiet that there's a problem," Jordan agreed.

"The banter means all's going according to plan," Heero explained.

"If we start barking orders you'd better fuckin' do as told," Jordan agreed.

No one said anything and Jordan grinned slightly.

"Thing about Yuy and Maxwell," someone else muttered, "is that they work together seamlessly. They can tell each other _layers_ by the tone of their voices. The order to smile means that they're piss bored as we are. The asking for a drink and subsequent refusal means that they're probably gonna go drink until they pass out after the mission…"

"Hey!" Jordan protested. "Those are as close to state secrets as we get!"

The guy laughed and things fell quiet again.

Quiet…too quiet…

Jordan grinned ruefully at the clichéd thought. He saw some soldiers standing on a balcony in one of the buildings. Trowa was with them. They all had their arms crossed as they watched the car move up and drive by. Everything on the base had taken on a grave sorta silence, almost as if grieving…

Everyone was realizing that all was not well on the home-front.

"Let's pick it up, boys," an amused female voice muttered…and the car sped up.

"Fuck you," Jordan informed whoever she was as he started to jog. His leg was mostly healed, but his back was ripped up. That included the backs of his legs.

"You're gonna burn, Lizzy," Heero agreed.

"The sooner we get to the sanctum," Lizzy retorted, "the sooner you can go get plastered."

"I was just _thrown_ ten feet when a _house_ exploded at my back!"

"If you couldn't handle this, you wouldn't have been assigned it," Lizzy reminded him. "So both of you stop bitching."

"I don't know you," Jordan noted, "and I'm pretty sure I don't like you."

"I'm hurt," the woman noted. "You ruined my life."

Jordan grumbled about the ways in which he _could_ ruin her life, but didn't bother saying it into the walkie. There was no point. He kept pace with the vehicle and waited patiently when they finally did find their "sanctum". He watched the soldiers fanning out as Heero moved around the car to stand by him.

"You okay?" the soldier asked, scanning some.

"I'm only bleeding a little," Jor reassured him. "You?"

"Same. Think we'll live?"

"Nope."

"Damn, good funeral?"

"Mediocre."

"Pessimist."

"Optimist," Jor shot back.

They grinned at each other.

"Clear," the word came over the radio from several directions as soldiers moved up to the door.

The car door swung open…to reveal Zechs Marquise.

They stared at each other, though it was obvious from the leader's expression that it had been _him_ watching Jordan balefully on the drive up.

"Why aren't you dead yet?" Marquise asked curiously.

"Get inside," Heero hissed, his hackles seeming to be raised as he looked around.

Zechs glanced at the guy, then started forward. He had a cane, but it seemed to be more an affection than an actually used thing.

"Well," Heero muttered when Zechs had moved into the building with soldiers around him, looking to Jordan. "Look at it this way. You get to talk with him now."

- -

"You were almost _killed_," Chai protested as she clung to Jordan's forearm. "You told me there'd be no problems…"

"Well," Jor muttered, leaning against the kitchen counter and turning to face her. "In a technical sort of way, there wasn't. We went in, got our man, and got out. All things considered, we got out with minor injuries."

"But…"

"Whether you realized it or not," he muttered, "I've been doing this since I was about _twelve_…on different layers. I was _fifteen_ in the war…and I'm here and whole still. Don't freak out on me, please. I know it's hard, but…this is no different then Angels…not really. At least now we know when we're in danger."

Chai's expression blackened as she started to draw herself up.

The vid beeped.

They both looked at it, then Jor moved to hit the button.

"Maxwell?"

"Yeah," Jordan replied, studying the unfamiliar man's face. "What can I do for you?"

"Zechs Marquise is asking that you meet with he and Yuy in Baits' hospital room."

"I'll be there in five," Jordan muttered, disconnected and looking to Chai. "Do you want to clear Jonny or not?"

She started to protest, following as he started for the door.

"I want Jon cleared," Jordan insisted as a car pulled up out front. "I have to go deal with this…just…I'll be back."

"Hurry up," Quatre snapped as Trowa followed him into the house. "You're gonna piss Zechs off."

Jordan blinked at him. Quatre had dark rings under his eyes and stress lines all over his face. There was a sort of haunted-distance in his direct look, and he didn't seem like the man Jordan knew…had he been like that when the car was rolling in? Quatre'd been far enough away at that point that there was no real way Jordan would have been able to see him

"Zechs is already pissed at you," Trowa corrected, shaking his head slightly to indicate that Jor shouldn't ask. "Evidently your five year sabbatical offends his fine sensibilities."

"Sabbatical my ass," Jordan grumbled, glancing to Chai and then moving from the house.

"How long is this gonna keep going on?" Chai demanded, crossing her arms as she met their eyes. "I've been with him for three weeks now and we don't get any time together."

"Just have patience," Quatre muttered, looking away tiredly. "This is getting more and more complicated…"

"He almost died," she muttered, wrapping her arms around herself as the fear of hearing returned. "He almost…"

"I _know_! Okay?" Quatre's shout ripped from his throat as his own worry mingled with her fear and uncertainty. He tried to fight the emotions as the idea of Jordan really dying crossed his mind and mixed with the stress he'd been feeling since he'd _realized_ what the trio had been up to…

The stress from the previous night along with every _other_ person's stress he'd encountered on the base slammed into him again. The knowledge that he could lose his friends and their own realization of the same fact…Chai's sudden descent into the unknown…it all slammed into the man, and he did the one thing he'd been fighting since he'd seen the ambulances pulling back into the base. He crumpled forward to the ground, sobbing helplessly as the emotions raked along his senses like fire.

Chai, helpfully, became even more afraid…though Trowa'd been trained along with Heero and Wufei for the breakdowns. A sort of resignation emanated from him as he leaned down and collected the blond from the floor. "It's okay, Q," he reassured him, starting to rub his back. He _meant_ it, too. "You just need to let it go…don't keep it…it's not yours."

- -

Jordan reeled as his mind noted Zechs had thrown a punch. He'd followed Heero into the hospital room, and the blow knocked him back against the door, slamming it shut loudly.

"What's going on?" Baits muttered, rousing from the doze he'd fallen into.

"Zechs!" Heero protested.

Jordan reeled again as Zechs punched him again, and realized that Trowa'd made one of his lovely understatements. He dodged the third blow, feeling a bit of vindictive gratification when the man's hand slammed into the door painfully.

"Knock it off!" Heero shouted, darting in to grab the guy as Jordan dodged another blow. "Stop it!"

"You have _some_ balls!" Zechs shouted, swinging at Jordan again.

"And I'll keep them, thanks," Jordan snapped, slamming the man backwards against the door and pinning him there. "It's fuckin' good to see you, too," he added, wiping at something on his chin that he realized was blood.

"I'm grateful to be party to the reunion," Baits noted.

"Are you all right?" Heero's focus changed instantly to the bedded man.

"I'm fine, Heero…"

"Fucker," Jordan added to Zechs, moving toward the mirror…Baits started to protest, and Jordan turned his head in time to see something moving at him. He grabbed Zechs' cane in sheer disbelief before yanking it from the man's hand and hitting him with it.

Oops, he hadn't meant to do that.

Zechs'd cringed, expecting more, then blinked when Jordan threw the piece of wood to his feet, glaring the him down.

"Do I want to know?" Zach Baits asked Heero.

"Probably not," Heero reassured him, smiling slightly. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired…you sure you don't want to tie one of them down?" he looked to where Zechs had leaned over to grab his cane.

"I'm about to let Jor go," Heero noted.

"Jor?" Zechs asked, focusing on him. "Who is Jor?"

"Har har har," Jordan grumbled, going back to wiping his mouth down. "Duo is dead, fucker. Deal with it."

"I'm _so_ pissed at you," Zechs snapped.

"Good."

They glared at each other.

"I'm curious to know why I'm graced with this," Zach noted to Heero.

"I haven't figured that out either."

"Funny," Jordan looked to the men. "Same goes for me."

"You're an asshole," Zechs snapped at him. "A childish fucker with no consideration! You don't _care_ that you just abandoned everyone for five years for some bitch!"

"Ooh," Heero cringed, as the man he and Jor had saved looked to him curiously. "Bad idea."

"Some _bitch_?" Jordan repeated, straightening.

"Some little Angels whore…"

Heero covered his face with his hands…as Jordan launched himself at Zechs.

"You should probably stop them," Zach noted, watching as the two scuffled. He wasn't sure why he didn't find the sight alarming, but he had a feeling the pain meds pumping into his veins might have something to do with it…

There was a small table beside a sink just beside where the pair of fighters fell to the floor, and the rolling around slammed them into the legs…so a pitcher of cold water spilled and tumbled over both their faces and heads. They coughed, sputtered, and choked as they stopped fighting one another in shock, then moved to clear their faces.

"I guess that worked," Zach added, yawning and covering it with one hand as he met eyes with Heero a moment a moment.

"Yeah," Heero darted forward and drug Jordan across the floor as he tried to regain himself, then moved to stand between the pair as they recovered. "You two done yet?"

Zechs started sputtering something as Heero turned and refilled the pitcher, but Jordan just sat where he was. It was obvious that he was thinking; his eyes were moving as his breathing became more erratic…

"I say again," Heero repeated, studying his friend warily. "Are you two _done_ yet?"

"That _fuck_…" Zechs half-shouted.

Heero poured the pitcher over Zechs' head.

Zachary started laughing.

"You okay, Jor?"

"Everyone's…everyone's against her…everyone…" Jordan didn't quite look up.

"It's her fault you stayed there for five years," Heero agreed. "She's not a slut, granted, but it _was_ her fault. You done yet, Zechs? Now that you've pushed him into something of an anxiety attack I think you'd better be…for your sake."

Zechs blinked up at the man as he wiped his hair from his face, then focused on Jordan.

"He _loves_ Chai," Heero added to the man, shoving him against the wall with his foot as he refilled the pitcher again. "And that was the most callous and needless thing I've _ever_ heard you say."

…and he poured the pitcher on Zechs' head again.

Zachary started laughing again as a hesitant nurse stuck his head into the room and stared at the downed and sputtering leader.

"Get us some coffee," Heero ordered the man. "And a few towels."

"There are towels over here," Zach pointed at a counter along one side of the room, then yawned again.

"All right," Heero moved across the room as the nurse disappeared. He took one towel and threw it at Zechs' face, but walked the other to Jordan. He studied his friend's eyes as he passed it to him, then turned to look at Zachary. "Right…this is Jordan Maxwell. I've been friends with him since I was about fifteen."

"He's the one who carried me," Zach nodded, then smiled at Jordan as the guy wiped his face off. "Thank you, very much."

Jordan offered him a slightly crooked grin as he focused sidelong on Zechs.

"I'm sorry," Zechs sighed. "I just…well, you just _abandoned_ us all here…"

"We all have to do what we have to do," Jordan snapped at him, using Heero's leg to climb somewhat unsteadily to his feet. "Chance's already pointed out that…"

"Chance?" Zechs asked blankly.

"Heero," Zach gave the man a confused look.

"Uh…yeah," Jordan hesitated as he realized what he'd said. "Anyway, if I hadn't met up with Chai I'd have gotten ahold of you guys…but I wasn't moving around in Angels and didn't want you to find me."

"So you just befriend the man who tried to get me killed," Zechs grumbled.

Heero sighed in resignation.

"Jon did _not_ hire the fucking assassin!" Jordan snapped.

They stared at each other a long moment.

"Breer's been here, hasn't he?" Zach asked. "I mean…his calls are monitored and crap, and I didn't get grabbed until…well, I think Jordan was on base, actually. I don't think it's likely that Breer could have managed it."

"Besides," Jordan added in a dark tone. "His focus is on the panel…and Baits isn't on the panel."

"Call me Zach…or Zachary if you want to be formal. I think I owe you my life, Mr. Maxwell. You could call me your bitch and I'd only smile and nod."

Jordan flashed him a slightly appreciative grin, then shook his head. "If I hadn't done it, Chance'd have grabbed you…or Doll."

"I was in some severe shock," Heero corrected. "I didn't snap out of it until Logan shot the window out."

"It was him?" Jordan flashed his friend a grin, then moved to sit on the foot of the bed and pat Zach's shin.

Zachary studied the back of his head a long moment before turning to focus on Zechs again. "You know you're out of line on this one, right?"

"What's a brawl between friends?" Zechs shot back, moving in closer himself as he dried his hair. "Though Heero owes me."

"No, no I don't," Heero muttered. "I could have done something physical to get your attention, but water dries."

Zechs gave him a look.

"So what was so important you called me away from my fight with my girl?" Jordan demanded. "She's upset with me for a building exploding at my back. I need to work some serious consolation here, and you're acting like I'm subservient to you."

"You have to do what I say," Zechs retorted.

"Just like with Une, huh?" Jor met eyes with Heero.

"Stop," Heero ordered, giving Zechs a look. "If you only called him here because you could, I'll kick your ass myself."

"I called him here so he'd be in the hospital by the time I was done with him."

"You're so fucking mature it amazes me, Marquise," Jordan snapped, rising to his feet. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go dose myself on Remalene and pain-meds. It was nice meeting you," he added to Baits. "I'll have to come back again."

"I'd like that," Zach agreed, smiling at him tiredly. "Just be sure to call to see if I'm asleep or not."

Jordan grinned at that, then cast a glare at Zechs…and stormed from the room.

Heero shook his head in disgust at Zechs himself, then focused on his friend. "So what can you tell me about the men who grabbed you?"


	18. Political Mischief

**Political Mischief**

"What's wrong?" Jordan asked Quatre as he moved into the front door of his house again. Quatre was sitting alone on a chair with his legs hugged against his chest. His eyes hadn't lost their distance, and Jordan's approach had made him flinch.

"I'm…tired," Quatre muttered, looking down. "Go away."

Jordan took a deep breath and cleared up his lingering irritation with Zechs. He moved around the couch and sat near his friend, studying him.

Quatre smiled slightly. "That's nice…quiet."

"You look like death warmed over," Jordan noted.

"You almost died," Quatre agreed, the distance entering his voice again. "That hurts."

"We weren't that close to death," Jordan reminded him. "We were five or more feet away from the house. You know it'd take more than that to take us down."

"Logan's upset with you."

"For falling on him?" Jordan was amused by the thought.

"For taking it for him," Quatre explained, still not looking to his host's eyes. "For protecting him and getting yourself badly hurt…it upset Wayne, too. It upsets Wayne that Logan's upset you protected him."

"And you feel it?"

"Logan clung to me while we waited for you two to regain consciousness."

"He was scared, and the others were scared…and Chai was terrified?"

"Yep."

"So you've been exposed to raw emotions for about twenty hours?"

"Give or take the hour when I knocked myself out with prescription sleep shit."

"That's harsh."

"I don't want this, Duo," Quatre muttered, finally focusing on his friend with wounded eyes. "I don't want to feel it all like this…"

Jordan couldn't bring himself to correct the name, and looked to the carpet instead. "I can't take it from you…or I would."

Quatre slid off the chair he was on and moved to lean against Jordan's side on the couch. He didn't say anything as he stared across the room at the entertainment center. It was almost a painful connection when Jordan realized that Quatre'd used to sit against him like that all those years before. When things were getting complicated, he'd do it. Jordan had always assumed it was because he could control his emotions…what had the blond done without him to hide behind?

Jordan clenched his jaw, feeling guilty as he looked around. His bedroom light was on, and he had to assume that Trowa was there with Chai. "You chased them off, didn't you?"

"Chai's emotions were screaming at me," he agreed. "Trowa made it okay for a while, but Chai is upset."

"What can _I_ do?" Jordan asked, shifting back and studying the blonde's face.

Quatre shifted to lay with him, seeming almost child-like as his eyes closed and opened several times. "Just…" his eyes looked like they didn't want to stay open. "I can focus on you," he noted. "Always…focus…" his eyes flinched closed and he moved sharply to rub them, forcing them open.

"Go to sleep," Jordan ordered, running his fingertips over his friend's eyelids. "You need to sleep."

"I…"

"If you can't finish a sentence," Jor stated, "you can't very well argue. Do as you're told. I'm sure your sleep-aid is gonna drag you down to the depths anyway."

Quatre laughed slightly, his eyes pressing closed again as he relaxed more against the couch. He forced his eyes open again, though, focusing on Jordan with a sort of alertness that meant he wanted something understood. "I don't want to be alone."

Jordan patted his leg reassuringly. "You're in my house, Quatre. You'll never be alone in my house."

The words and the fact that he meant them anchored somewhere in Quatre's psyche as the blond sank into the sleep he hadn't been able to surrender to for hours. He felt Jordan move very slightly, but it was an accommodation of the position…and then the darkness took him.

- -

Wufei exhaled slowly as he and Morgan sat in the shade of bushes in the park area of the compound, watching the distant men pacing the line outside the base fencing.

"Nothing's going to happen until we're lulled into a false sense of security," Morgan noted as he inhaled. "We'll have a few days of this crap, then we'll calm down the base-line. In a week…I bet you in a week Marquise or Baits will get it in the head."

"No," Wufei argued quietly. "It'll be one of the other leaders."

"Which one, though?" Morgan grinned. "How many are there?"

"Ten," Wufei replied shortly, meeting the man's eyes. "You sound amused now, but if this conversation comes up again you might become suspect." He had no intentions of mentioning that three of them were dead.

"I don't have the patience to hire an assassin," Morgan argued. "Or the connections to Angels."

Wufei grinned at him and exhaled again.

Morgan sighed, snuffing out his cigarette. "How's Quatre?"

"He's still at Jordan's," Wufei shook his head, thinking the last two nights over. "You gathered that Chai has the quieting ability, right?" He waited for Morgan to nod. "Well, she was so upset that Jordan was knocked unconscious she hasn't been able to do it for him. I think Jordan has the ability, though."

"There's a bizarre thought."

"Quatre is tailing Jordan around and the only thing Jor does about it is grin," he shook his head again. "I wish they'd take the time to do some serious studies on the empaths. It's not fair to them that the only break they get is an hour or two a week in a room full of people. There has to be _something_ that can be done…"

"We should set up a study," Morgan suggested tentatively, focused on the table.

"Why do you _care_?" Wufei snapped at him irritably. "You two bicker like old men whenever you're in hearing range of each other."

Morgan lit another cigarette, sitting back in his seat and looking to the perimeter. "It's not fair to _them_. I won't argue with you, I don't get along with Winner. Fuck, Winner's a grade A asshole. He's a fuckin' honor-role class-president valedictorian fuckin' asshole…but he's your friend. I can care that much."

Wufei grinned at him, appreciating the humor in the statement, then shook his head. He snuffed out his own cigarette and sat back himself, considering his companion's expression. "I need you to help me do something," he muttered.

"Okay, this hints at legality issues," Morgan raised an eyebrow. Wufei's demeanor and the fact that they were meeting in such a remote spot was really what had hinted at it. Morgan'd been waiting to point it out since he'd shown up to see the guy's distant expression. That was the only time Wufei _got_ that look…when he was considering something illegal…or that he should in some way not do.

"Nah, just going against Yuy's wishes," Wufei shrugged.

Morgan laughed, leaning forward. "I'm all over it."

Wufei started laughing, throwing his cigarette butt at the man.

"Dude, I'll _beg_ you to let me piss off Yuy! Come on!"

Wufei drummed his fingertips on the tabletop, then looked toward the building. "Shifton has an interest in males."

"So you want his attention?" Morgan raised an eyebrow.

Wufei gave him a pointed look. "No. Shifton knows Jon because they had a _relationship_."

Morgan shifted back in his seat, looking startled.

"Heero doesn't want Jor to talk to Terry because of that. Jon has a sorta schoolboy crush on Jordan…I haven't talked to either of them about it for details. Anyway, if Jordan talks to Shifton about the charges on Jon they'll probably clash hard. Jordan's not above exploiting the weaknesses implied in the uncertain end of the relationship, and Heero doesn't want to ruffle that many feathers. Shifton hasn't stopped cooperating yet and that might be the straw that breaks the camel's back."

"So, what? What do you need me to do?"

"Help me distract Heero so I can get Jordan in to see Shifton."

"And this is hard, how? Can't you just…"

"Heero has his swat-flies buzzing around the base. I heard him telling the lot of them to let him know if they see Maxwell approaching Shifton."

Morgan considered it a moment, then grinned. "You needed some small repairs done on your vid at your apartment, right?" he offered.

"That'd work, except that Heero has a _cell_ phone."

"Let me finish my idea," Morgan reassured him, snuffing out his second cigarette and starting to toy with the lighter. "Take the vid in for repairs. It'll take'em all day so your house-line will be out…start the joke that Heero does everything with his phone. The others will pick up on the fun and you can jack his cell. You know Trowa will get a kick out of it, and if you put Chai on Quatre he'll be obnoxious, huh? While they're busy playing keep-away, get Jordan into the interrogation room with Shifton."

- -

"Dictate," Heero muttered into his phone tiredly. "O six-hundred hours. Winner woke up approximately two hours sooner than medication is supposed to wear off. I suggest he has sleep time in the M building with a quieting." He ended the message and sent it to Une's email.

"What did you just do?" Quatre muttered as he moved tiredly from his room, studying his friend. He'd heard Heero's verbal order to the phone, and he could feel that it had something to do with him.

"I'm getting your ass into the M building," Heero retorted, turning toward the sink.

"Hey," Quatre protested, perking up and chasing after him. "I don't need that…I have Chai. There are plenty of people who need it more than me…"

"You can take that guy, Gina, and Varia," Heero informed him, thinking of the shy lanky man Quatre'd hang out with and the two girls. "Either that or you can just sleep. You'll sleep anyway. You're getting a genuine room, I don't care."

"You can't make me," Quatre informed him. "I'll be fine…there are other people who need it more than me."

A flash of amusement struck Quatre before Heero's resolve returned.

"_No_!" Quatre shouted at him, which caused Wufei and Trowa to look out at them. "You can't make me!" he repeated his earlier claim, yanking Heero's phone from him. "You don't have to take _care_ of me, Heero! I'm a grown man!"

Heero grabbed for his phone, but Wufei darted across the room and took the phone from Quatre, starting to laugh impishly. He knew the opening could be closed if Quatre continued his arguments, but if he just let it go…

"Hey!" Heero protested.

"Fei?" Trowa asked.

"He does everything with his phone," Wufei supplied, forcing the laugh again. "Now he's even pissing us off with it!"

Heero laughed a bit abashedly.

"I want to see how long he can survive without it."

Trowa's eyes flashed with amusement.

"No!" Heero insisted, stepping around Quatre as Wufei darted to Trowa and passed the phone off.

Trowa took the bait easily, tossing it through the air until Quatre caught it. The blond looked at the phone uncertainly as Heero turned to approach him with obvious hope…and the feigned bit of the information made him clutch his hand tightly around the bit of machinery.

"You guys!" Heero protested. "I get my orders with that!"

"And what are today's orders?" Wufei teased. "Isn't today the day you retrain your team?"

Heero blinked at him.

"So your lackeys meet up with you in the training field and you run through some drills, huh?" Wufei was waiting to get struck by lightning. The opportunity was _too_ prime… "Pretend to take a building or something? You know no one would call you anyway…just see how long you can live without it."

"So…let me have it back," Heero extended his hand to Quatre.

Quatre tossed it back to Wufei, grinning a bit impishly himself as he backed from Heero's personal space. "You can't expect me to cooperate with you when you're trying to mother me."

Heero gave him a long level look. "I mother everyone."

That got him a slightly mocking smile as Quatre crossed his arms.

"You want the phone," Wufei noted, tucking it into his pocket, "then you have to get it from me…" and he darted into his room, slamming the door shut and locking it.

He had a feeling he was going to get his ass kicked.

- -

"You have his phone?" Jordan demanded of Wufei in disbelief as they walked toward the interrogation building. "And you're not somehow dead?"

Wufei grinned impishly at him. "It was Morgan's idea. Heero's swat team doubles as a secret police force. They're insanely loyal to him…well, mine are to me, too. Anyway, that's not the point. He told them that if they saw you heading to Shifton to call him for various spouted reasons that they swallowed whole. Quatre got pissed at him this morning and took the phone. I figured I needed to seize the opportunity while it was fresh. I also dropped our vid off at the repair shop because we managed to crack the screen when we got the call you were both unconscious…so…"

"We? Or you?" Jor asked.

"Tro, actually," Wufei smiled sweetly. "I broke a chair."

"Ah," Jordan smiled a bit as the door opened. "So his swat guys can run for him, can't they?"

"Today's his retraining day," Wufei shrugged. "They're all with him. We have about two hours of certainty that he won't know, but after that I can't guarantee anything."

Jordan smiled roguishly at him. "All I needed was to get in."

"I'm gone," Wufei noted, looking around as he thought of the quickest path to his next destination.

"Later," Jor agreed, then hesitated before entering the building and flashing the guy a grin. "I owe you a pack of something _worth_ smoking."

Wufei rolled his eyes.

- -

"I swear she's some sort of hypnotized flunky," Deb continued with her story as Trowa ate his lunch quietly and listened. "She was telling me to type faster or something when I was on the _phone_. I was _on_ the phone, talking to someone who needed my _help_ and she was trying to make me work faster."

"Some people are all about efficiency," Tro offered, taking a drink. "What'd you tell her?"

"I didn't say anything," Deb shrugged. "I just ignored her."

"Probably the best idea," he noted, blinking at an unfamiliar buzzing. It took him a moment to realize he had Heero's phone in his pocket, and he held up a finger for the woman to wait while he grinned and opened the thing. "Hello?"

"Chance?" an unfamiliar male asked uncertainly.

"Uh…no. He's…well, he's not around."

"Who is this?" the person demanded.

"Your worst nightmare?" Tro offered with a smirk as Deb gave him a confused look. "Your favorite dream? Your erotic fantasy?"

The guy laughed slightly uneasily. "I'm serious, dude. I don't need song lyrics."

"I'm Chance's boy-toy," Trowa noted, smirking even wider. "Who are you?"

Deb spread her hands, silently demanding an explanation.

"Confused," the guy returned, then considered the conversation a moment. "When do you think he'll collect his phone?"

"Probably tomorrow sometime," Trowa shrugged as Deb narrowed her eyes at him. A complication struck the male and he winked at his girlfriend as she started giggling. "Don't call here anymore. He's _mine_!"

The call ended and Trowa smirked at his girlfriend as she laughed disbelievingly.

Heero was certainly going to get some confused looks next time he ventured into the city.

- -

"So…what?" Jordan muttered, turning a chair around to sit with his arms crossed on the backrest bit of it and his legs to either side as he stared across the table at Shifton. "You get sick of Breer or something? Stopped puttin' out, so you decided to get back at him while making a political move?"

Terry's eyes turned flinty. "It wasn't like that."

"Ah," Jordan considered him as he took a drink from his bottle of water. "Was it the two of you together?"

The guy's eyes narrowed as he thought, then looked away. Finally, he met Jordan's eyes again. "How did you know we were together?"

Jordan grinned at him humorlessly.

"No," Terry replied. "That was confidential information."

"I'm a confidential sort of guy," Jordan reassured him.

"You're that guy…that one from," Terry's eyes went slightly distant as he thought. "You were with Yuy that day in the bar."

"Was I?" Jordan tilted his head.

"You had a braid, though," Terry considered the soldier's hair a moment, then focused on the table as the idea of the braid slammed into him again. There'd been something naggingly familiar about the man that time…and then he remembered. He jumped to his feet, pointing at Jordan. "You!"

"Me?" Jordan asked, smiling sweetly.

"You were…! The bodyguard!"

"Huh?" Jordan grinned more.

"You were that fucker…the one he kept _talking_ about!" Terry's mouth worked silently as he thought over the encounters with Jonathon, then focused on Jordan with a flinty glare.

Jordan laughed his humorless laugh. "You're slow, aren't you?"

"Why are you here?" Terry demanded, moving around the table to lean into Jordan's face. "What the hell kind of person are you?"

"Look at me a minute, Shifton," Jordan muttered quietly, rising to his feet and spreading his arms. "Look at me and think real _hard_ about the news reels."

Terry frowned, thinking that over as well.

"I used to be called Duo," Jordan added. "I don't claim that fame anymore, but I was once Duo."

"Maxwell," Terry muttered, comprehension dawning in his mind as he straightened to stare at the man in disbelief.

Jordan gave him a genuine, even charming, smile. "I want to know why you framed Jon," he said quietly. "I want to know why you put all this on _his_ head."

"I didn't put anything on his head," Terry hissed back, dropping back into his chair hard as he looked away. "He stopped calling me, but I'm not so petty as to get him in deep-ass legal shit because he lost interest in me."

The words confirmed something that Jordan hadn't been sure of before. Jon had fronted the money for Terry, that much was certain…but Jor had been hissing in his ear about how bad an idea it was to do it…and then Terry had sort of fallen off the radar.

"What?" Terry demanded, swallowing as he met Jor's eyes for a fraction of a second. He had his arms crossed, and the tone of his voice suggested he was upset.

"If you didn't do it," Jordan returned, moving around the table to stand against it with his own arms crossed as he looked down at the man. "Then who did?"

- -

"Hello?" Wufei muttered as he walked along a cool breezeway with a drink in his hand. Trowa'd passed the cell phone off to him with a note that he'd spotted Heero coming in from the field with an expression of irritation on his face.

"Chance?" an unfamiliar male voice demanded sharply.

"Uh, he's not around," Wufei returned. "You'll want to call back in the morning."

"Who is _this_?" the guy demanded.

"I could ask you the same thing, but I don't care enough to do it," Wufei considered things. "He won't get his phone back for a few hours at least," he took another drink. "You may call back then."

"I tried that frickin' line for his vid and it kept ringing…is there any other way to get ahold of him?"

"I dropped the vid off for repairs this morning," Wufei noted. "Is it an emergency?"

"Not really, but I'd kinda like to know my friend's all right…" the man considered things. "You know him, I'd imagine. Is he okay? I heard that he was on the wrong end of an explosion."

"Considering that there's no good end to an explosion," Wufei noted in amusement, "I think he's fine. Actually, he just spent a night in the hospital and he's retraining now."

"Can I call one of his men, then? I think I have a number or two…"

"I'll pass him the phone next time I see him," Wufei lied reassuringly. "I'll make sure he knows you're calling."

"You're not who I talked to earlier," the man noted.

"I just got the phone about five minutes ago," Wufei agreed with a grin.

"Why? You're gonna see Chance again soon? You know he's Yuy, right?"

"You missed my comment about dropping the vid at the repair shop, didn't you? We're roommates."

"Well…can you tell his boyfriend for me that we're just friends?"

"Boyfriend?" Wufei repeated blankly, turning to look in the direction Trowa had disappeared and starting to smirk. "Which one?"

The man fell silent.

Wufei choked back a snicker. "Hey, I've gotta go."

"Um…"

"Have a wonderful day," Wufei added sweetly, then closed the phone and tucked it into his pocket with a snicker as he took another drink from his cup.

"Chang!" Wufei looked up at Heero's irritated shout. "Where's my fucking phone?" The guy was walking fast enough that the two lackeys behind him almost had to jog to keep up.

Wufei focused on the pair a moment, then shrugged. "I gave it to Trowa this morning."

"Where is he, then?" Heero demanded. There was an agitation in his manner as he waited impatiently.

"He just went to organize his retraining day," Wufei pointed at the building. "I saw him a few minutes ago."

Heero groaned in irritation, then moved past the guy as the two lackeys eyed him suspiciously.

Somehow…they annoyed the Chinese man.

Wufei lunged at one, which caused him to jump hard. He started laughing as Heero turned to look at them in confusion.

"Fuck you," the guy spat at him…and Heero backhanded him. His expression registered shock.

"That shit is not acceptable," Heero informed the guy, then rolled his eyes to Wufei. "See you tonight."

Wufei waved cheerily after the trio, then turned and started jogging for his car. He had a feeling he needed to be away quickly. Trowa wouldn't lie about the matter, which meant Wufei probably had about three minutes before he was in the line of fire again.

- -

"You're his _runner_!" Terry half shouted in Jordan's face. "You're talking to _me_ about _**morals**_ and you _run_ his drugs around Angels? You're a fuckin hypocrite."

"I was a broke hypocrite," Jordan agreed in a dark tone. "Jon pays well, and he paid me _really_ well."

"A prostitute, even?" Terry's expression was becoming disgusted.

Jordan offered him the charming smile again. "He likes to make me happy, even if I don't reciprocate."

The man blinked.

"If you would have fessed up about the damn money," he added, "then you wouldn't have been cast as a buyable politician. Do you understand that? No matter how many twists and turns you could put on it, you should have just said you borrowed the money from a friend of independent means and you were using it to buy a flat…"

"And then they'd have all asked me why he'd lend me that money."

"I'd lend the money for a flat to my friends if I had it," Jordan retorted. "You embarrassed that you were with him or something?"

"It's a personal matter," Terry looked away.

"Huh," Jordan returned, pacing the length of the room again. "I thought you found out he wanted to be with me."

Terry froze completely, meeting his eyes.

Jordan shook his head. "It's nothing, just a little crush. He's useful to have around," he added almost suggestively, raising his eyes to Terry's in amusement.

Terry exploded.

- -

"Hello?" Quatre muttered as he moved across a grass-training field toward the M building to meet up with Paris. Wufei had passed him a half-empty fountain drink and Heero's phone wordlessly. He'd had a bit of worry and amusement in his manner. Quatre had pocketed the thing, slid on his shades, and started across the base while enjoying the drink. He'd purposefully taken the least popular route, and was able to enjoy the peace of no one.

"Who the _fuck_ is this?" some guy shouted.

"A hallucination," Quatre explained. "You don't really see me." He grinned as the man reasoned that one out. "Or are you my hallucination?"

"That last dude said he was giving Chance the phone."

"Last dude?"

"Oh god, don't tell me…you're his boyfriend…Chance's, I mean."

Quatre laughed at that. "No…no I'm not. I just have his phone. Who is this?"

"None of your damn business. Give Chance his fuckin' phone or I'll kick your fuckin' ass."

"Wow, testy," Quatre noted as he took a drink. "Listen, buddy. I have two words for you and one of them is _you_."

"I'm getting damn tired of calling and not getting ahold of Chance. Give him his fucking _phone_ back."

"Why don't you make me?" Quatre offered as Paris moved from the building and they stopped just outside the door. "Watch what you say or I'll sick his boyfriend on you."

"Who is that?" Paris whispered.

"Heero's phone," Quatre whispered back, indicating the thing and shrugging.


	19. Terms of

**Terms of…**

"How many boyfriends am I supposed to _have_?" Heero demanded of Quatre, putting his hands on his hips as he glowered at the blond.

Quatre fought a grin. "You never told me you had _one_…how am _I_ supposed to know?"

Trowa started laughing evilly as Wufei smirked and looked away.

Heero surveyed the three of them with his hands on his hips, narrowing his eyes.

"You're such a hot piece of property," Wufei snickered the words. "When whoever it was _mentioned_ a boyfriend…I mean, you're not exactly monogamous."

Trowa choked, snickering evilly as Quatre coughed back his own laugh.

Heero leaned forward and slammed both his palms onto the tabletop; they were in their kitchen. "I _don't_ think that's very funny."

"Who the hell called, anyway?" Trowa asked. "He didn't say his name."

"It was Chaz," Heero retorted, giving him a look. "So not only did the three of you pass my phone off to each other all day, but you told my friend I'm a gay player?"

The trio burst out laughing at the question, knowing Heero really _was_ pissed. Wufei felt slightly bad, as well as Quatre, but Trowa had his trademark indifference in play.

Heero laughed a little himself, thinking about the statement. "God, you'd think…was it Jor who talked to him last?"

"Uh, no, it was Paris." Quatre muttered. "I haven't seen Jor since early this morning."

Wufei forced a smiling shrug, but a flash of nervousness betrayed his guilt to Quatre. The blond studied the Chinese man in silence before looking back to Trowa.

"I told him…Chaz? I said I was your boy-toy," Trowa muttered. "Well, I quoted Dirty at him first…but yeah. Deb thought it was pretty funny."

"She would," Heero muttered, rolling his eyes with a grin as he lowered himself into his chair at the table, thinking. "Wanna tell me what you all told Chaz? He's a bit confused."

"I had just hung up with him in the breezeway," Wufei explained. "He was all up in arms that the phone had been passed again. He ended up asking me to tell your boyfriend that you two were just friends. Seeing as I didn't know you _had_ one," he grinned, "I asked him which one. It was an honest mistake, really."

"And you're an innocent virgin," Heero retorted, rolling his eyes.

Wufei laughed.

"He tactfully asked if I was your boyfriend," Quatre noted. "I said that I wasn't and Paris was right there. He picked up on the game. He took the phone and told Chaz…"

"Paris?" Heero asked, blinking as he thought quickly. Quatre'd brought Gina around the group of them plenty of times, and Varia a few more, but the blond didn't have many male friends that the group knew of.

"Yeah, Paris," Quatre frowned a moment. "He's taller'n me…really shy."

"Oh! The lanky one," Wufei nodded as he looked to Heero. "The one with the brown-blond hair…red highlights…right?" he appealed to Quatre.

Quatre gave him a level look and nodded. He wasn't overly shocked that they didn't know Paris' name, but he thought he'd brought the guy around enough…to…

"He's coming over in a while," Quatre realized, sitting up. "I invited him over for some supper."

The group blinked at each other.

"I want to introduce him to Jor," Quatre added, looking to Trowa. "You guys don't mind, do you?"

"I can't say that I would," Heero agreed somewhat laconically. "But it's good you reminded us of his name…I wouldn't want to hurt his feelings. Gotta be nice to my boyfriends and all that…"

Quatre started laughing and the group fell into an easy banter about how many supposed boyfriends Heero could get away with claiming…which led into assigning them each numbers. The conversation was easy-going enough that they managed to forget they were in the middle of a political crisis. The jokes distracted them enough that the base being on lock-down didn't mean much…

There was an almost hesitant tap on the door and Quatre rose to his feet as Heero darted from the table.

"It's _for_ me," Quatre protested, following after.

Heero laughed naughtily. "But he's _my_ boyfriend."

As he said this, he pulled the door open to beam at an absolutely blushing guy who completely avoided his eyes.

"Hi, Paris," Heero muttered happily, extending a hand. He looked the guest over, commiting his face to memory. He doubted he'd forget him ever again after Chaz's confused ramble about boyfriends, but that would help him keep it straight, right?

He was quite a bit taller than Quatre's six feet, and Heero was amused to notice that he had very long and dark eyelashes around blue eyes. He was handsome, as far as Heero cared to think about that, and…he really did just look long.

"Hi," the guy returned nervously, shaking his hand slightly and ducking past him to the comfort of Quatre's personal space.

"He's just teasing," Quatre reassured the guy. "You okay?"

"Can we go?" Paris almost breathed the question, embarrassed by the amusement he felt all around the room.

"I thought we were gonna have dinner," Trowa protested, rising from the table to move closer so the guy could _feel_ him. He knew there were times when Quatre needed to sense the emotions, and it'd probably help the male relax. At least, he hoped it would. "I was gonna make something."

Paris blinked at him, startled.

"You should call Jor before you head over," Wufei added, wondering suddenly if the guy had left the interrogation room or not. He hadn't heard from him since leaving him at the entrance to the building.

That didn't bode too well, actually.

"He should be home by _now_," Quatre protested. "I don't know what he was doing, but…it's five already."

Wufei shrugged.

"Une called him to her office at one point," Heero noted, thinking back. "She's setting up his swat team and wants to know what he's gonna do with them."

Wufei swallowed slightly, trying to control his guilt at having assisted in directly violating Heero's wishes. He was grateful Quatre and his little friend were across the room from him, and tried to think about something else very quickly…

Paris frowned slightly, then turned to give him a curious look.

Wufei froze.

"What?" Heero asked, following Paris' gaze to Wufei. He frowned, looking back to the guy. "What's wrong?"

Wufei met eyes with Paris, wondering if he was a stronger empath than Quatre. The idea in and of itself was mildly terrifying.

"He's not going to take your loyal play things," Quatre muttered almost reassuringly to Wufei. His expression showed clearly that he knew this wasn't the genuine issue.

"Uh," Paris muttered, looking to Quatre.

"I know he wouldn't take them," Wufei muttered quietly, not meeting Paris' eyes. "Instant reaction…my people are good."

"I want to have a few drinks over there," Quatre suggested to his friend quietly, then moved his eyes back to Wufei. "You wanna drive us?"

"Sure," Wufei agreed, rising slowly to his feet. "Now…or should we eat?"

- -

Jordan hesitated as the electronic beep sounded to indicate the front door had opened, then looked up to Chai as the girl stared at him in disbelief from her spot on the couch. He looked away a moment, then shut the door behind himself and moved carefully into the living room.

"I'm just gonna stop asking," she noted almost bitterly, staring at the very large black eye he was sporting. "There's no fucking point."

"I talked to Shifton," he explained, moving tiredly to lean down and kiss her. "I wanted to rile him."

"You weren't supposed to talk to him," she noted, then grinned very slightly at the sound of a step.

Jordan looked up slowly, expecting to see Heero…and then realized there was one worse person to see.

Jon was staring at him.

"Hey, Jon," Jor greeted him uncertainly, standing straight. "How are you?"

"Why did he punch you?" Jon demanded evenly. Terry would have…it was Jordan. He knew the type of thing Jordan may have said to push the man over the edge…

"I said you were good to have around," Jordan replied, looking away.

"In that tone?" Jon snapped.

"I was interrogating him, trying to get under his skin," Jordan snapped, moving past the man into the kitchen. "It doesn't matter what I said."

Jon grabbed his arm, meeting his eyes. He stared at the other a long moment, then let him go, starting to shake his head.

"I needed him shook up," Jordan snapped, moving to the fridge and throwing it open. "I just…I didn't mean it, okay?"

"What did you _say_?" the kingpin snapped in a level tone, moving across the kitchen.

Jordan deflated slightly, closing the fridge slowly as he raised one hand to the massage the bridge of his nose. "It's just…"

"Honey, I'm home!" Quatre's voice sang out as the electronic beep repeated. Jordan moved away from Jon quickly to look down the hall at Quatre, Wufei…and another guy that he hadn't seen before.

"Hey, Quatre!" Chai greeted happily, bouncing to her feet and actually moving to hug him before beaming at his friend.

"This is Paris," Quatre introduced him. "This lovely little taken thing is Chai," he added to his friend. "I keep trying to think of a good way to steal her, but she's in love."

Chai laughed at that.

"Hi," Paris greeted her easily, shaking her hand as he smiled back at her. He could feel something in her that wasn't quite normal, but her emotions were stably happy.

"Hoo, shit," Quatre noted, focusing on Jordan and blinking. "What happened to you?"

"I…what did you tell him, Wufei?"

"I had to admit," Wufei returned. "Paris is a stronger reader than him."

Jordan's expression turned evil as he met the guy's eyes.

Paris blinked at him, focusing on the black eye with interest.

"There's a reason he's in the M building all the time," Quatre noted, then jerked his head to indicate the guy should follow. "This is the infamous Duo Maxwell," he explained. "He's changed his name to Jordan, though, so for all intents and purposes, Duo is dead. Ugh…" he flinched away from Jon as Paris hesitated at the edge of the other man's aura.

"Sorry," Jordan apologized to the group and sighed. "I interrogated Shifton today."

"Did you find out anything useful?" Wufei muttered, stepping forward some.

"Just a minute," Quatre muttered, trying to adjust to the emotions. "Fuck you hurt him, Jor…"

"I…" Jordan started, then trailed off, looking down.

Paris' expression registered surprise, then he focused on Chai in utter disbelief as Quatre relaxed visibly.

"Is that better?" she asked uncertainly.

"You're a quieting?" Paris demanded of her, blinking.

"Not really," she explained. "I have to make it happen."

He blinked again, then looked around and met eyes with Quatre, blinking again.

"It stopped, didn't it?" Quatre muttered, smiling slightly at his friend. "Even you are affected."

Paris nodded, his eyes moving back to Jordan and Jon.

"He's stronger than me," Quatre explained, "so he needs _more_ than me…I mean, even in the special rooms at the hall, I have to have two or three of the quietings around to do what Chai does…and it's still not entirely gone." He studied the girl a moment longer, then focused on Paris. "If you tell anyone about her, I'll get Jordan to kick your ass. She wouldn't be able to handle the hall."

Paris nodded easily as Wufei moved around him then stopped next to him with a smirk. The empath stared at him with intense interest, then looked around again, a slow smile breaking across his face.

"Shifton didn't do it," Jordan added to the Chinese man. "He didn't frame Jon."

"That's Jonathon Breer," Quatre added, indicating the still graven kingpin. "Confidentially, he had a relationship with Shifton."

"You're the one who hired the assassin," Paris noted, his tone dropping.

He sounded evil.

Chai blinked at him as Wufei shifted back. Quatre rested a hand on the man's arm, still studying Jordan as he waited for the reaction.

"I swear to you on my mother's _grave_ that Jon didn't do it," Jordan snapped at the man. "What do you say to that?"

Paris narrowed his eyes as he focused on the pilot. "I say you sell your mother cheap."

"I like Jon," Quatre noted. "If he's not fooling me, then he didn't do it."

"You're not so innocent as you look, are you?" Wufei muttered, still looking him over. "I got the impression you were just some shy boy."

Paris focused on him, blinking as the anger subsided…his _own_ anger and nothing else…it was an odd thought.

"Or maybe it's because you can't control your emotions," Wufei's eyes went distant as he thought, then he waved a casual hand to the group, pulling his phone. He hit a button as he pulled out a cigarette, and moved onto the porch wordlessly.

"What's he doing?" Paris asked blankly.

"I don't know," Quatre returned, turning to focus on Jordan again. "We're hungry."

"I'll make something!" Chai exclaimed, bouncing toward the kitchen.

"But it's my turn!" Quatre protested, tailing after her.

Jon studied the silent visitor a moment, then turned and muttered something to Chai before resting a hand on Jordan's shoulder. "What did you say?"

"I said you were good to have around," Jordan repeated, looking away. "I said that you wanted to get with me…and then muttered some shit about how easy it'd be to use you and lose you."

Jon sighed, his eyes looking hurt.

"I wanted him upset," Jordan persisted, following him toward the front of the house. "I didn't mean what I was saying…I know it sounds bad, but…"

Jon shook his head, "You lie like a snake."

"He's not lying," Paris muttered, studying Jordan with interest. "He's really sad about what he said…and it's not a lie."

Jon studied the guy a moment, then nodded his gratitude. "I need to get back for supper," he muttered, turning to meet Jor's eyes again. "I'll come back over tomorrow."

Jordan crossed his arms as he watched his friend leave the house, then raised his eyes to Paris' uncertainly.

"He didn't do it, did he?" Paris muttered. "You wholly believe that he didn't do it."

"He wouldn't lie to me," Jor agreed, looking away. "Can we not talk about this?"

"You hurt Quatre."

"Great," Jordan sighed, moving to sit against the back of the couch. "I get this again."

"You don't understand at all, do you?" Paris snapped, straightening. "You don't get what it's like when we attach to people…you fuckers become _part_ of us…more than just a friend…it's…you're _in_ us! Why can't anyone under_stand_ that!" he turned and punched a wall.

"Paris?" Quatre asked, moving into the hall to blink at his friend. He frowned, focusing on Jordan. "What's up?"

"I had a choice to make," Jordan informed the man. "Leave a helpless seventeen year old girl to die on the streets of Angels or take her in and keep her safe. Quatre had the others, they all dealt with the grief or _whatever_ they had against me…Chai had no one." Jordan shook his head. "I'm not going to take back what I did. I'm not going to apologize more than saying I'm sorry I hurt you. I did what I had to do."

The taller man turned to look at Jordan, his expression losing anger.

"I've loved Chai for years," Jordan added quietly, moving closer to him. "If we weren't in the middle of fuckin' assassins-R-us, I'd have been court-marshaled and sent to prison for five or six years for what I did. What would that have done to Chai? What would she have done without me?" He shook his head. "Shit happens, and you deal with it. I freely and openly admit that I fucked up big-time. I acknowledge that I made a huge mistake. I act to remedy my actions. What do you want me to do? Fall down and start crying?"

"Your leaving hurt more than that," Paris whispered. "It was a lot more than that."

Jordan studied him a long moment, then shrugged as she shook his head. "It's in the past, where it belongs. I'm here now, and I'm not leaving. If you get me a time machine, maybe I can change the past…for now I'll have to work with the future."

Chai moved around the corner to frown at Jordan. "Can't you do this shit _without_ upsetting our guests?"

"You know what," Jordan muttered, focusing on her and raising his eyebrows, "I just went directly against Heero's wishes and pulled Wufei along for the ride. I offended someone I care for very deeply and got into _another_ fight. I had to explain to Une why I was with Shifton when Heero told me not to go there, and then I had to decide what kind of special force my special force team was going to be. I had to decide on how many _people_ I'd train…and then I had to _tell_ my friend about the absolute _shit_ I said that made him sound like a love-blind fool. Throw me in a room with an empath telling me I don't understand what fucked up shit's been going on and you won't like what you see." He took a deep breath, fighting to control his aura. "I'm gonna go in my room, and I'm going to lay down for a half hour because it's time for me to take more Remalene. I'll come back out and be a perfect social butterfly for your entertainment, but right now I'm about at the end of my rope."

She snorted, watching him move into the kitchen, then turned to smile at the others. "I'm sorry about this…he's been tetchy."

Jordan grabbed a can of soda and measured the dose of the drug into his palm, then stormed by them wordlessly and closed the door behind himself as he took the pill.

It really _was_ time for a nap.

- -

Heero was pacing silently, hands on his hips. He hadn't said anything, but it was very obvious he'd found out about Shifton. Jordan watched him moving with vague interest, wondering what for of action the irritation would take. He had it in him to launch himself at Jordan and deck him, but it'd take a sudden rush to make that one happen. He could…just start shouting until his voice went hoarse and he realized Jordan wasn't really present in the room. He could…could…

"Do you have anything to say?"

"Too much to say, maybe," Heero shot back. He looked sidelong at Jor, shaking his head. "You even managed to do _exactly_ what I didn't want you to do."

"I'm talented like that," Jor agreed.

"I have to go talk to him," Heero added, stopping to cross his arms and glare at his friend. "Anything you want me to say to him?"

"Not that comes to mind, no," Jordan tilted his head slightly.

"Did you plan it like that on _purpose_?" Heero snapped. "You hear they snatched my phone and make a b-line to the building?"

"Actually," Jordan smiled sweetly, "you were retraining."

Heero blinked.

"All your little butterflies and honeybees were _with_ you," Jordan grinned wider. "That meant that I had a bit of time where none of your flunkies would be able to tattle on me. On top of that, they would have had to go _run_ to you to tell on me since you managed to piss Q off."

Heero narrowed his eyes, wondering a moment if Quatre had planned the charade with Jordan or not. He couldn't see Quatre doing it, though. Not to mention there'd been no way for Q to know he'd have sent the message to Une that had set him off. Wufei would have been more manipulative on the matter, but everything had been too un-thought out. Trowa would have just told Jordan blankly to go talk to Shifton. He shook his head.

"How'd that go, anyway? Did you die without your phone?"

"Marginally," Heero sat at his desk with a sigh. "What am I gonna do with you, Jordan? That…you deliberately disobeyed me."

"Tell me the part where that's new or unexpected and I'll help you plot my own demise."

Heero frowned at him.

"Let's put it this way, huh? Terry didn't set Jon up to take the fall, and Jon didn't hire the assassin, so that means that a: Terry hired him, which I don't believe. Or B: someone's setting them both up."

"But who would do that?"

"I'm not that criminally minded, sorry," Jordan apologized, rolling his eyes. "We're opening the base again, aren't we?"

Heero nodded, tapping his pencil against the desktop as he chewed on the tip of his thumb. Finally, he raised his eyes to Jordan's. "You really believe that?"

"That someone set them both up? Yeah. Didn't you say that no one outside your officers club should have known? That suggests to me that someone leaked. Terry told me that he allows people to put in money into his accounts—usually he knows about it, though. Campaign money for re-election, that sort of thing. I didn't directly mention the credit transfer that went through his group of lackeys, but I suspect he had no idea."

"Most people aren't stupid enough to use their own accounts to hire an assassin," Heero agreed, looking over Jor's head as he thought. "Shifton isn't really a stupid man. He might be a bit naïve, but he's not stupid."

"I'll go gather the research Une's gathered on those people who had access to his account," Jor noted, rising to his feet. "I'll see which ones of them might have their eyes on the prize."

"Jon…he wouldn't know about our list," Heero noted, meeting Jordan's eyes. "He doesn't know anyone in the officer's club. He has no connection to it. We need to get Une to look into the members and their contacts. I'll convene a meeting…on Wednesday. All right?"

"You have a lot of power here, don't you?" Jordan asked quietly, stopping to look at his friend. "You…"

Heero smiled slightly and looked away. "I'm twelve on the list."

"Who's eleven?"

"Une."

Jordan snickered at that, then tilted his head. "So doesn't that now make you like…ninth now?"

"Not really, that's another thing we'll be discussing on Wednesday," Heero wrote a quick note on a large desk-calendar in front of him, then looked up again. "We pick the leaders by their ability, not by their station. If the other eight people died off today, that'd be how I got in charge."

The reinstated soldier nodded a bit respectfully at that, starting for the door. "Want me to curry that message for you? About the officer's club?"

"No," Heero said firmly. "You don't know all the members…and neither does she. I'll talk to her about it here in a few hours…" he thought again, then tilted his head. "What's your swat gonna be?"

Jordan flashed him a truly evil smirk as he realized he hadn't told that information. "Why, espionage, of course. Once I get'em all trained, you'll have fifteen charismatic assholes who could steal the clothes off your back without letting you realize it."

Heero grinned at that. "Great. Just what we need."

Jordan laughed, and started for Une's office.


	20. Plastic Cases

**Plastic Cases**

"Hey, pussycat," Heero greeted Chai, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "I'm here for your boy."

"He's getting out of the shower," Chai returned, smiling slightly at the man and standing. "You want something? Water? Pop? I have coffee on."

"Coffee would be lovely," he muttered, following her down the hall. "How are you? I haven't really gotten to talk to you in a while."

"I'm kinda annoyed," she returned truthfully. "He's hardly ever home, and when he his, he's really tired."

"We're almost done with our Remalene," Heero noted. "That should help."

She nodded, pulling out two cups from the cupboard. "We don't get any time to ourselves, either."

"I'm sorry," he offered. "I know it's hard, thanks," he accepted his filled cup from her and moved to get the milk from the fridge. "But, the sooner we can prove Jon didn't do it, the better it will be. You have to remember that he only came back so he could _clear_ Jon."

"I know," she muttered, setting the sugar by him and taking the milk. "It's just…I don't know." She stirred at her cup a moment. "I thought things would be better here…but we had more quality time _before_ he was my boyfriend."

Heero grinned at that, taking a drink from his cup. "I know a guy or two who'd love that honor…then you could have your quality time back."

She giggled and smacked him, pouring the milk into the cup she had and putting the jug away. "I'll be right back," she muttered, taking the cup and disappearing into the bedroom. He heard Jordan mutter a thanks, then Chai returned to sight without the cup.

Heero blinked at her.

"It's just…" she shrugged, pulling out another cup and starting the process over again.

That made sense…Heero moved out of her way.

"I guess I don't really need to complain," she noted. "I have as much money as I ever wanted…and it's not like he doesn't love me. I'm just irritated."

"I'll try to get him to take the weekend off," Heero offered. "The two of you can go do something together…maybe catch a movie and hit a park or something."

She smiled at that.

"Morning," Jordan muttered, moving from the room with the cup of coffee. "How are you?"

"I'm not sure yet," Heero returned with a grin. "You ready to meet my player's club?"

Jordan rolled his eyes and looked to his watch before shaking his head. "If we have time afterward, I'm gonna go pick up some phones."

"And you flick _me_ shit," Heero noted, realizing that he'd done it the night before. "Here, just a second." He passed the man his cup and moved to his car, pulling out the boxes and paperwork.

He'd been irritated the previous day that not only had Jordan _not_ been given an office, but he didn't have his own phone. Hell, the man hadn't even bought his own car; he was borrowing different ones from the base. Cars were a bit beyond the man's means, but phones were not.

"I wanted to call you yesterday and couldn't, so I did something about it." Heero passed a phone and box to Jordan, then one to Chai. "I programmed the five of our numbers in already," he told the woman. "Mine is one…his is two, so on for the first five. The house here is six."

"And so on?" Chai asked blankly, opening her fully charged phone to blink at it.

"One two three four…" Heero blinked at her, then snickered as he really thought about it. "Crap. I forgot. In the wars we all had these codes assigned to us. I'm always zero-one, Jor is zero-two, Tro is zero-three, and Quatre's zero-four. Then Fei at five…and the home number here is six. You can change'em around if you want, but that's our normal set-up."

She nodded, blinking as she hit the menu button. She'd never had a phone before.

"The book explains everything," Jordan noted, moving around Heero to kiss her cheek and wink. He turned back to the man. "I was starting to think you weren't going to get annoyed enough with me to buy'em."

Heero laughed and smacked him, then looked to his watch as he retrieved his coffee. "Looks like we have just enough time to finish our cups."

"Why do I have a phone?" Chai muttered, looking up to Jordan.

"So I can get ahold of you?" Jor offered, then winked. "Give the number to anyone you want. What company is this?" the guy added, starting to flip through the papers he'd also been handed.

"Same as ours," Heero agreed, opening his phone to look through it. "You need a car or two…you have your license, pussycat?"

"No," she returned, "but I know how to drive."

"So we'll set up a test for you," Heero noted, tapping the note into his phone. "Any particular type of car you want?"

"Something small…automatic," she shrugged a bit. "Why?"

"Because Jordan and I are going car shopping this evening, and he's going to get at least one vehicle so he's not stuck using the base pieces of gas-guzzling shit."

- -

"I can see some perplexed expressions," Heero noted a bit loudly as he moved down the isle of a large room to the podium in the center of the front. "And I'm sure you're all dying to know why I called a meeting together."

Jordan studied the murmuring heads of state and secretaries of…whatever. There were four entrances to the room aside from the emergency exit behind Heero himself. They were all set to guard a door. Once Heero called the meeting to order, no one could be let in or out.

The room had a gentle angle of stadium style seating. From the center, it fanned out in a half-circle. Behind Heero was a large and very white wall, and in front of him a few isles was an empty desk with a machine of some sort on it. The walls of the place, otherwise, were mostly white, but the molding was all of a cherry colored wood with black grain…and lacquered. There were smaller desk-like areas for seating and red cushions.

It all just looked so _official._

"I apologize to those of you who had to do some quick talking to make it, and I do notice that we're all here. Thank you." The crowd fell completely silent as Heero leaned against the podium as if considering something. He tapped the toe of one foot behind the other on the floor, then set the toe against his other heel and looked the group over. "I'm afraid we have a leak."

There was an instant of complete silence before everyone started looking around. There were many dismayed and confused expressions, and some slightly guilty, some calculating.

"Now, I know none of you would have violated the confidentiality of these meetings for the _world_…or the colonies, for that matter…so I'm sure you understand I'm quite confused."

"No one would have told anyone!" one of the men near the front protested. "Who would have said anything?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Heero noted, looking them all over. "I'm sure you all noted that Blunt, Rudd, and Kante died…and then Marquise was shot. It was just random chance that had Chang on _that_ grassy knoll or we would have lost a strong leader…"

Jordan tried to remember if he'd known Wufei was the one who saved Zechs' life and decided the fact hadn't been mentioned to him as he looked down the wall at the Chinese man. Wufei grinned very slightly at him, then focused back to the front.

"And then Baits disappeared," Heero added, pushing up from where he'd been leaning. "You all know that I'm friends with Zach. You all know that he was my most ardent supporter in keeping me from heading into Angels…and you may all have noticed that we have a new member." He extended a hand toward Jordan.

Jordan stood straighter as the entire room turned to focus on him, noting that Heero gestured him to move down the stairs. He did so at a normal pace, hearing the sweep of whispers as he moved down the stairs.

"Ah yes, Maxwell," Heero muttered, draping his arm around the guy's shoulders as he smirked slightly at him. He looked back to the crowd. "He was _in_ Angels."

Silence again.

"The asshole _hid_ from us _in_ Angels…of all the nerve," he shook his head, then grinned. "But we plucked him out…that's beside the point. My dear friends," he added a bit theatrically. "Please join me in welcoming the one and only _Jordan_ Maxwell to our…club. I certainly hope he plays well with others."

Jordan gave Heero a look as the entire throng clapped for him, then nodded his excuse to head back up to his post.

Heero waited a moment, letting him ascend, then drummed his fingertips on the podium to regain attention. "So…Baits, right? I was heading to my trial…I had a fight with a man named Matthew Corringer."

Jordan noted a man flinch on Heero's right and focused on him.

"…we've never gotten along and…well…" he thought a moment. "Maxwell," he indicated Jordan again, "is a friend of Breer's…"

And he proceeded to recount finding Jordan in the club, a somewhat comical version of getting Jordan to return to the base, and how he still didn't understand why Jor had a house and he and the others were still in an end wing.

There was something different about him, standing in front of the crowd. He had a sort of self-assured calmness. Heero had never been anything but confident, but standing in front of the thirty some odd members of this officer's club, he _looked_ like a leader. He _looked_ capable of heading any organization or country that decided to have him. Everyone was listening to him, watching him…

He fell silent a long moment, then looked up toward Jordan. "Then I got the call." The old friends studied each other a long moment as Heero realized Jordan's expression had changed. Something in the other's manner had shifted very subtly. He looked around again. "Baits called my cell phone in a panic," he explained. "He told me that some men had grabbed him and he wasn't sure where he was. I hooked up to Barton's lap-top," he indicated Trowa. "And that's when the trouble became real."

Jordan wondered how long Heero'd been leading this officer's club and why they'd been the ones to choose the line of power…aside from the fact that it was the head of every major branch of government sans the President Wilkon himself or his vice president. The soldier summed up the rescue of Zachary Baits quietly, staring distantly at the wall between Wufei and Jordan, then looked around again.

"So what do we do?" a man asked from somewhere in the middle of the throng. He had the type of familiar face that meant he was in the news from time to time, and Jordan wondered who he was and what he did.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Heero returned. "Someone told _someone_ about our top ten, and they're all being picked off one by one…or were. We've got Marquise, Baits, and Shifton here on-sight," he noted. "Beedus still hasn't checked in…and yes, I do assume he was grabbed. Fontinelle is on a base over in Cairo. I need to know who you've all told about the line of power. I won't blame any of you for it, it seems innocent enough to talk about it with friends, but…someone is trying to kill them all." He grinned at uncertain looks, then indicated a man sitting in the very front row on the furthest seat to his right. "If you'd pass out the papers and pens I'd be grateful…just take one and pass it down." The guy nodded and started moving instantly, passing a pile of papers down, then pens. "Anonymous as you want it to be," he explained. "Please make sure it's legible. Name any person you may have mentioned it to, even if you're not sure you _did_ mention it."

There was a murmur as the sheets started going back and the people in the front row obviously started thinking…all but the man who'd flinched.

Jordan indicated him to Wufei, and Wufei nodded, looking around to Trowa, then Quatre. The pair looked at him and Quatre shook his head with a slight shrug. The man was too far away.

"Why aren't your toy-soldiers making a list?" someone demanded from the middle of the back row, turning to look at the four of them.

"Seeing as Maxwell only found out the list about a week ago," Heero returned, "He's exempt. The other three just haven't been given the paper yet."

Quatre rolled his eyes slightly, moving forward to take the remainder of the pile of paper and a pen, passing the stuff off to Trowa as he moved to a desk himself and thought. He looked around after a moment, then moved down the isle to an empty chair much nearer the man they were all trying to tell something about.

Trowa nodded his slight approval as Heero blinked at the blond, then looked up to the rest as Wufei passed the last of the paper off to Jordan. Jordan took the pile and scribbled 'toy soldiers my ass,' onto the top sheet, moving to the man who'd spoken. He set it happily in the man's lap, then moved down the isle toward Heero with the remainder of the pile.

The man crumpled the paper up, which caught several people's attention, then threw it to the floor.

"Is there a problem?" Heero asked, blinking at him in confusion.

"Nothing, sorry," the guy returned almost coldly before focusing on his piece of paper again.

Jordan noted what he'd written on another piece and set it in front of Heero, who gave him a look for it as he set the pile of paper into his briefcase, then organized the pens. Jor asked if Heero really thought the idea would work.

Heero took the pen from him and thonked him in the forehead with it before snickering slightly and dodging away. After another moment, he moved back to the podium and crumpled the sheet of paper up, tucking it into his pocket.

Jordan grinned at that.

"I think this is all," a man muttered from somewhere above, folding his sheet in half, then in quarters. Several people followed suit, passing them along the isles to the side Jordan was moving up to gather the first. A moment later, pens were passed as well.

"I can't believe I'm reduced to a lackey," Jor noted as Wufei came to take the papers from him.

"Shut-up," Wufei hissed, focusing passed Jordan on Heero. The guy had raised an eyebrow.

"I just thought I'd note it," Jordan reassured the man he'd taken several pens from with a wink. The guy grinned, and Jordan moved up the stairs to gather more utensils of mass destruction…because, he reasoned, the pencil is mightier than the sword…and pens are more permanent.

- -

"Welcome to the most marvelous, mind dazzling, time guzzling training camp of them all!" Jordan noted expansively on Thursday as he moved down a hall to a group of some fifteen men and women. "I don't know if it's really all that great an idea to put me in charge of people, but it's been done all the same, so, my lovelies," he beamed at them, "welcome to my cupboard."

"Said the spider to the fly," a man noted in amusement, studying Jordan with intense interest.

He had strikingly green eyes, and his hair was a rich sort of brown. Jordan looked him over a moment, then smirked and focused on the rest of the group. "I brought apples," he noted, offering up the bag of produce. "It's been about five years since I've had one and that struck me as very bad for some reason." He offered the bag around and people took them uncertainly.

"Sleeping Beauty," the one who'd spoken before noted, "was offered an apple and it put her in a sleep of death."

"Actually," Jordan corrected, taking a bite, "that was Snow White. She was the one with the dwarves around her ankles." He made a gesture indicating his own ankles. "Sleeping Beauty pricked her finger on a poisoned spinning needle."

The guy grinned, taking an apple and biting into it.

"Come on," Jordan added. "I had a conference room set up for us. We'll take some surveys and compare our results."

"Why?" the one who'd spoken demanded as everyone gave him looks.

"Because I'm in charge," Jordan reassured him, smiling. "What's your name, mouthy?"

That got him a toothy grin that somehow reminded him of a Cheshire cat. "Xane Featihl."

"Featihl?" Jordan repeated, making a slight face. "I think I'll stick with mouthy."

"As you see fit, oh wondrous leader."

Jordan snickered, clapping the man on the shoulder. "We'll get along fine."

- -

"Chance?"

Jordan blinked at the semi-familiar voice on the phone, then grinned. "This is Jordan."

"Oh, hey, Jordan…this is Shin. Did I call the wrong number? I really need to talk to Chance."

"No," Jordan reassured her. "We all realized that Chance dies if he doesn't have his phone, so we're getting our kicks by taking it from him. I fairly sure he's chasing one of his roommates down right now to get it. Is there a problem?"

"Well…" she hesitated, "Chip is sick," she muttered finally, sadly. "I need to take him to the hospital, but I can't afford it…"

"It's not bad is it?" Jordan demanded instantly, looking around to find his car. Heero'd taken him to the dealership two days before, and he'd chosen a small luxury type vehicle. The kind that moves very fast and is very good on gas.

"Nothing overly bad…he's just got a fever and a sore throat."

"I'll be there in a half an hour," Jordan noted, looking to his watch as he realized it was Friday and his shift had ended, meaning he could leave the base.

"Well, I…Chance…"

"Chance is grounded, sweet-pea," Jordan noted, sliding into his car and pulling out his own phone. "He can't leave the base this weekend unless it's duty." He realized after a moment what he should do. "I have to call my girl and tell her what I'm doing," he added. "Then I'll have to make it into town. Don't worry, we'll get Chip taken care of."

"Uh…all right," her tone was confused as she hung up.

"Chai?" Jordan asked into his phone.

"Hey, baby," she returned happily. "You thinkin' of me?"

"Always, love…but that's not why I'm calling right now."

"What's up?"

"Chance's girl just called," he explained. "She has a son who is sick. She can't afford the hospital fees, so I'm gonna help. She wanted Chance to, but he wouldn't be able to anyway. Is Heero there?"

"Yeah, and his ears are back."

"I'm leaving his phone with Duty," Jordan noted, pulling up to the gate and putting his car in park. "I'll be back as soon as I can, and call to let you guys know what's going on."

"Okay, sweet, love you," Chai muttered, hanging her phone up after hearing his return.

"Duty?" Jordan asked as the man swung to the door, looking curious. "Can you do me a huge favor?"

"Depends on what it is, rich-boy," Eastland returned.

Jordan displayed Heero's phone. "Yuy'll be here in about ten seconds to collect this."

"Yuy can't leave the base."

"But I can," Jordan agreed. "I have to run into town. I may be gone a while. Can you give this to him?"

"Sure," Eastland took the thing from Jor.

"Thanks," Jor muttered with a grin, then realized someone was in the booth with the gate guard and looked around him to meet eyes with Matthew Corringer and smirked. Several things crossed his mind to say, but he figured he probably shouldn't say most of them.

There was a loud sound up the road and they all glanced toward the base as a car tires squealed.

Jordan laughed, noting Heero's SUV. "That's my cue to get off base," he noted to Eastland with a wink. "Thanks a bundle…I owe you. Need anything from town?"

"Twelve pack of Amber would be nice," Eastland smiled.

"Amber?" Jordan asked, making a face. "That shit's too sweet for me, but I'll try to remember to grab you some."

"Awesome," Eastland waved as he hit the button to let Jordan's car out…it left extremely quickly, then lowered the bar as Yuy slid out of his machine with an irritated expression. "Hello, Yuy. Not feeling too homicidal, I hope?"

"I don't kill the messenger, anyway," Heero agreed, extending his hand for his phone and opening it. "Can I get you anything?"

"I could use some cola, diet if you'd be so kind."

"Gotta watch your girlish figure?" Heero teased with a grin, looking the man over. He noted Corringer behind him and rolled his eyes slightly. "I'll be back in a few."

"You're such a nice boy," Eastland called after him.

Heero laughed and flipped him off, reversing.

"You get shit like that all the time, don't you?"

"There's a reason I do my duty well," Eastland retorted, turning back to Mat. "And it's not because it's my civic duty."

"Cute."

Eastland grinned, lowering into his chair. "People usually refuse to get me _any_ Amber, let alone a case."

"You don't know that he'll come through," Mat protested. "He said he'd try to remember."

"That's rich boy speak for it'll be late tonight before he gets back."

Corringer started laughing.

- -

Shin was standing on her front porch with Zachary in her arms as Jordan pulled into her driveway. She had a diaper-bag of sorts in one hand and her expression was somewhat worried.

"Come on," Jor muttered, opening the back passenger door before moving to take the boy from her. "Get his booster…I called the hospital on my way over so they'll be expecting us."

Shin hesitated, looking away from him. "Why are you doing this?"

"Your boy is sick," Jordan noted, frowning at the high heat he felt. "Get the booster…come on." Shin disappeared back into the house and Jordan smiled down slightly at the child. "Hey, Chip. How are you?" The boy muttered something as Jordan tried to figure out the temperature level. It wasn't a severe fever, at least.

Shin returned, moving to strap the seat into the back of the car before taking her son carefully and setting him in it. She tweaked his nose with a word of encouragement as Jordan moved around the car and slid in.

"Listen," Shin started, shutting the door. "If you need anything…"

Jordan shook his head, hitting reverse as he remembered Heero's comment about the girl being between an orgy chick and a girlfriend. "I'm good."

"I know…I don't usually," she hesitated again, not looking at him.

"I have a girlfriend," he noted calmly, moving down the road quickly. "And if you stopped fighting it, you'd have a boyfriend."

"You don't know him the way I do," she returned, looking away again.

"I probably know him better," Jordan stated, turning.

"This is…the clinic is…" Shin frowned, looking to Jordan uncertainly.

"How about you let me worry about that, huh? The clinic here isn't very good."

"But…" Shin was uncertain again.

"Shin," he muttered, looking to her face a moment, "your son is the most important thing in your life, right?" She nodded. "So let people who care for him help you without trying to find the reasoning. I lived in Angels, I know what expectations would normally be tagged onto what I'm doing…and I'm not asking for anything in return…except that you give Heero another chance."

She smiled wryly at that.

"Don't tell him I said that…that just sounded bad," Jordan smiled slightly at her, shifting his shoulders slightly. "Like my new car?"

The visit to the pediatrician went smoothly as Jordan waited in the lobby of the area uncomfortably. He kept getting shy smiles from mothers-to-be or mothers with young children. They also continually asked him if he was waiting for his own child. On a brighter note, Shin was beaming as she exited the place with a bright-eyed three year old in her arms. He smiled happily at Jordan as the soldier joined his mother at the counter.

"If you can sign here," the receptionist, who didn't even look legal, added to Shin. "It's just for billing…"

Shin blanched.

Jordan took the paper from her. "Is there anyway I can do a lump-sum?" he asked, studying the numbers on the page. "I hate making payments. I always forget."

"Are you the father?" she asked, blinking.

"Are you a virgin?" he returned with a completely straight face.

The girl blushed.

"Debit, if you have the machine," he added, indicating the thing he saw in the back of the room. "Does he have a prescription?"

She was still red-faced. "The doctor is writing it up right now."

"Okay," Jordan muttered, filling in the appropriate blanks. His phone beeped at him and he read the caller I.D., opening it. "Yellow?"

"Red," Heero retorted. "What's going on?"

"Zach has a form of strep," Jordan explained. "They gave him something and he's already bright eyed and perky."

"Is Shin…is she okay?"

"She's a bit embarrassed, I think," Jordan returned, passing the receptionist his card.

"Why?" Heero asked almost dangerously.

"Because the receptionist asked if I was the father so I asked if she was a virgin."

"That's none of your business."

"Exactly," Jordan smirked as he accepted his card. "We need to fill the prescription. I'll see if she needs anything else since you're stuck there."

"I'd appreciate it," Heero sighed sadly. "Did she…offer?"

"She started to," Jor agreed, sliding into Italian. "But I reminded her I have a girlfriend. She never quite offered it."

"I…wonder how often she…does," Heero muttered slowly, sounding morose.

"I doubt ever," Jordan muttered, winking at the woman's confused face. "Does she speak this language?"

"She's got Chinese, Japanese, English, and some German."

"Ah," Jor nodded. "She said she didn't usually offer, and I take it to mean that she only does that shit for you."

"I wish she wouldn't," Heero muttered, then fell silent a moment. "I feel so dirty…"

"You're drinking, aren't you?" Jordan accused in English.

"I'm at your house and drinking even," Heero agreed, going quiet again. "I'm gonna go."

"Is Quatre there?"

"Yes."

"Give Chai the phone."

"Yes'm, lovey?" Chai asked sweetly.

"Let Quatre read Heero before he hurts himself, baby. I'm gonna fill the prescription," he signed the receipt put in front of him. "Then go get anything else she'll need for the next week or so. I shouldn't be gone more than an hour now."

"Okay, baby," she muttered, making a kissy noise, then ended the call.

Jordan smiled, looking back to Shin as the woman accepted the piece of paper the receptionist handed her, then took his copy of the receipt with a nod. "I hope you have a nice day," he muttered, starting for the doors.

"Bye," Chip muttered to the woman over his mother's shoulder…and the three of them left the room.


	21. Fatal Reasoning

**Chapter 21: Fatal Reasoning**

"I hope that's everything," Jor muttered to Shin as she set her sleeping son on the bed in her room. They'd gone to a department store and picked her up a few bras and then some clothes for Zachary. After that, she'd allowed him to take her to a grocery store where he bought the boy Popsicles among other miscellaneous foodstuffs.

"Thank you, very much," Shin agreed, moving forward to grab his forearm. She hugged him, then kissed his cheek. "You have no idea how much I appreciate the help."

"Why _did_ you let me help?" he muttered, studying her face. "I got the impression from Heero…well…"

She looked away. "You're sincere," she explained. "You only say what you mean and…you _know_ what it's like to live in hard times. I just…"

"He doesn't understand," Jordan muttered. "He's always lived in base sort of societies. He grew up being trained military from the beginning, survived the wars…and then he's been on-base ever since." He grabbed her wrists a moment, studying her eyes. "I'll give you a hundred dollars," she looked away, "to consider his offer."

She blinked, meeting his eyes again.

"And I'll give you another hundred if you consider moving onto base."

She blinked.

"And _when_," he added, "are you gonna come to my place for dinner?"

Shin giggled slightly, glancing toward her child and shaking her head. "I just…"

"The gentlemen invited you to dinner," Jade muttered, moving into the living room. "Why are you refusing?"

Shin frowned, focusing on her friend.

Jordan closed the bedroom door and rolled his eyes. He pulled open his wallet and removed the money he'd promised her, offering it up.

Jade was laughing in the hallway.

"She's a bitch," Shin muttered, looking down.

"That's what friends are for, I suppose, and you can't very well call her anything else while you live in the same house with her. Do we have a deal?"

"Just to…to consider?" Shin asked, looking to his face again, though her attention was on the money.

"Just weigh the pros and cons," he suggested, tucking the money into her hand. "Think about everything he's told you and dismiss half of it."

She giggled at that.

Jordan kissed her forehead, then pulled the door open and closed behind himself, moving toward the front door.

"Hey, honey," Jade muttered, moving to follow him, "I'll cooperate with you for a few bucks."

Somehow, Jor wasn't surprised. "No thanks," he refused, moving onto the porch.

"Mm, cheap blow-job?" she offered, following him toward his car. "I know you can afford it."

Jordan snorted as he hit the unlock button, turning to look her over. "Only issue being…"

"You like guys?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"A blow is a blow," he noted, then snickered. "And my girl gives'em for free."

She blinked.

"Get a real job, Jade," he added, moving to get into his car. "You make more sure money and it makes you feel a lot less cheap."

- -

Heero was thoroughly drunk by the time Jordan returned to the house, sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen and staring at nothing.

"He's…getting violent," Chai muttered, moving to kiss Jordan as she whispered the words. "Quatre said we should leave him alone until you got here."

"All right," Jordan muttered, then nodded to Quatre. The blond was watching a show on the television and nodded at his host in passing before refocusing.

"You okay?" Jordan asked, moving into the kitchen.

"Fuck you."

Jordan blinked at that, moving to the fridge. "I got her some food and some clothes for Chip," he noted. "She realizes now that you're not as big a punk as you can come across."

"Fuck you," Heero repeated.

"If you weren't so drunk you probably couldn't stand," Jordan noted, pouring some rum from a bottle on the counter into his cup, "I'd deck ya." He measured an amount of juice into the cup as well, then returned the carton to the fridge and pulled out ice cubes from the freezer.

"Fuck…" he faltered.

"You puke in my kitchen and I'll mop that shit up with your hair," Jordan threatened, turning to him again.

"You fucked her, didn't you?" Heero accused. "She offered and you were all for it!"

"Why would I do that when I have Chai?" Jordan returned easily. "If anything, Chai is more than I could handle so I wouldn't even approach your girl."

"What girl?" Quatre asked, moving into the kitchen in confusion.

"Fuck you," Heero repeated again.

"He's expounding marvelous ideals this evening," Quatre informed Jordan, pouring another drink. "I made him stop drinking, but he'd had too much beforehand." He dug into the fridge for the juice. "You think he'll pass out?"

"With the way he drinks?" Jordan snorted. "I highly doubt it. We might get him to puke soon, though, before dousing him in water. You're not drinking too much, are you?"

"I had one cup before this," Quatre explained, showing his. "Hopefully they'll end the Prozac sooner than later."

Jordan nodded. "Amen to that." He toasted the blond as he moved back into the living room.

"She scream for you?" Heero muttered doggedly, drooping forward more onto the countertop.

"I coulda got her to beg for me," Jor noted.

Heero's head snapped up, his eyes angry.

"As it was, we spent most of the last hour wandering around Jean's, and the hour before that wandering around Basic."

Heero's eyes narrowed.

"Before that we spent an hour in the pharmacy, and I was holding Zachary the entire time. Kinda hard to get any gratification with a sleeping baby on hand, so don't go assuming I'd fuck your girl."

"She let you buy her stuff?" Heero asked tiredly.

"Yeah, but that was part of why you wanted me to meet her to begin with," Jordan noted, setting his cup down. "You remember how pissed Chai was when you guys were buying stuff for her? You remember how absolutely offended she was?"

Heero nodded again, sinking against the counter-top.

"I know how to circumvent that reaction. It also helps that I have a girl. Are you okay? Should we go get your stomach pumped?"

Heero buried his face in his arms…and started to cry.

- -

"Ma'am," Heero agreed, turning and moving slowly for the door of Une's office. His shoulders were slumped and he wasn't looking at anyone he passed.

"Shit, what's with him?" Trowa muttered, looking after the man as Jordan followed him into Une's office. "He's been like this all weekend and we had to empty the house of alcohol when he passed out at _noon_."

"I don't know," Une muttered with a sigh. "He's just so down…it…I'm worried about him."

Jordan considered mentioning what had happened, trying to decide if his friend had told them about Shin or not…if he wanted to tell them about Shin or not. Probably not under the circumstances, but…

"You test your men yet?" Une demanded of Jordan.

"Not yet, no," Jor returned, focusing on her again. "I did get it down to ten out of the fifteen though."

"Good. Finish testing, I want them ready to go by the first."

"Yes, Ma'am," Jordan agreed.

"Figure out what's bothering Heero," she added, gesturing for Trowa to sit down. "That's all I needed you for."

"Ma'am," Jordan agreed, turning and moving quickly after his sulking friend. Heero was leaning against his car with a lit cigarette when Jordan reached him. "What are you doing?"

"Jacking off, what's it look like?" Heero returned irritably, turning and snuffing the thing out on the cement. "Get the fuck away from me."

"What did I do to you?" Jordan asked levelly.

Heero flipped him off and climbed into the car, reversing and squealing from the parking lot.

"That went well," Wufei noted, moving up the sidewalk, blinking. "What _did_ you do to him?"

Jordan started to open his mouth.

"Maxwell!" Xane Featihl muttered, moving quickly into view from further down. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah," Jordan agreed, moving around Wufei. "This is Chang," he added, indicating the Chinese man. "If he agrees," he added, looking back to Wufei, "then I have a test in mind for you specifically."

"Ooh, he's singling me out," Xane noted, winking at Wufei.

Wufei smiled. "Must be the charm…works every time."

Xane laughed.

"He's a smoker, and you're a smoker, so I figured you two could try a little co-op."

"What? Share the same cigarette?" Wufei asked, giving Jordan a look. "You smokin' somethin' more'n tobacco?"

"I think he's got some vrit," Xane noted.

Wufei smirked.

"Actually," Jordan ignored the banter, "my thought process was that Wufei could find someone in a group, and without indicating them or saying their name…pointing at him and shit, you could offer the guy a cigarette."

"What makes you think I'd want to?" Wufei asked blankly.

"That's why it's an if," Jordan explained slowly. "Because if I'd gotten you to agree…"

"Okay, let me rephrase," Wufei noted. "What's in it for me?"

Jordan accepted the cigarette Xane offered him as he thought. He looked to the ground a moment, trying to find something of a value that his friend wouldn't be able to provide himself.

"A blow-job?" Xane offered impishly.

Wufei raised an eyebrow at the guy.

"I do know a chick who offers'em cheap," Jor noted with a smirk. "I could send you her way."

Xane started snickering. "Not what I meant, but hey."

"What _did_ you mean?" Wufei demanded evenly.

Xane smiled sweetly at him, then looked to Jordan again. "What'd the time-frame be?"

"About as long as it takes to smoke one. It'd look odd if you had three or four before offering. You'd need to make it look natural." The former pilot allowed the man to light his cigarette, inhaling…and coughing hard. "What the _fuck_?" he looked to the black coffin-nail in confusion.

"What?" Xane asked, looking himself. "It's clove…what's the matter?"

Jordan choked a bit more, shaking his head. "I've…only had clove once or twice. I wasn't expecting it."

Xane grinned. "There's no point to plain tobacco."

Jordan took another hesitant drag, looking to Wufei with watering eyes. "What do you say? Help me out?"

"How many times?" Wufei muttered.

"Three," Xane suggested, smirking again.

"You're either offering something very subtly," Wufei noted to him, "or I'm confused."

"Maybe both," Xane snickered.

"I have ten students, but only four of them smoke," Jordan inhaled again, slowly.

"You're all disgusting," Quatre noted, moving up to them. "Shit, Jor. I thought you only smoked when…" he trailed off, focusing on Xane.

"Hi, Mr. Winner," Xane offered his hand. "Honor to meet you."

"This is Mouthy," Jordan explained, patting the guy's shoulder.

"Nice to meet you, Xane," Quatre returned with a grin. "I hear good things about you."

Xane nodded his head politely, then focused on Jordan with interest.

"I didn't think about it," Jor explained, choking some more. "He passed it to me and I lit it before I thought."

"At least it doesn't smell as bad as his shit," Quatre noted, pointing at Wufei with a face.

"Yeah, fuck you too," Wufei noted.

"You cheatin' on me?" Morgan called, moving up from the opposite side as he looked the lot of them over. "You smokin' with others?"

"I play well with others, Mor," Wufei agreed with an evil grin. "Jordan's trying to sweet talk me into helping him out and I'm trying to find a way not to do it."

"You're gonna do it in the end," Morgan noted, accepting the cigarette Xane offered him and studying it blankly.

"Clove," Xane explained, offering a lighter up.

"This isn't just some social device for you, is it?" Quatre noted, watching him light Morgan's.

"Not really, no," Xane shrugged. "I don't have more'n two a day because they make me nauseas, but hey."

"What're you doing?" Jordan muttered to Morgan, giving up on his and bending over to grind the tip out.

"I have to finish setting up our retraining session," Morgan explained, indicating Wufei.

"Oh, you're his swat?" that startled the re-instated soldier. "I hadn't realized."

"That's where Paris came from, too," Quatre noted, yawning slightly. "Um…I'm gonna go take a nap…you care if I crash at your place?" he looked to Jordan.

"No, it's fine…just stop trying to steal my girl."

Quatre grinned at him, then frowned. "Paris?"

"I don't care," Jordan reassured him. "Chai likes having people around and being helpful…just don't leave her alone with Tro."

That got him a group-confused glance.

He smiled sweetly. "Come on, I have to have _some_ issue."

"Speaking of issues," Wufei muttered. "What's with Heero?"

"Shit happens," Jordan sighed, looking away.

It wasn't his place to tell.

"I guess I'll help," Wufei muttered with a sigh. "I can't think of any valid reason not to…but you better make Quatre do something, too."

"Hey!" Quatre protested, then blinked. "Help what?"

"I've talked Wufei into assisting me train my class," he explained. "You wanna help?"

"You're doing some spy shit, aren't you?" Morgan asked. "Teaching these pansy fuckers to sneak in and out and shit," he indicated Xane.

"Pansy-fucker my ass," Xane retorted a bit arrogantly. "I like real men…" and he started to laugh.

"You're so fucking stupid it hurts," Jordan noted, then laughed when the guy punched him. "Come on, let's get out of here. Are the others ready?"

"I don't know," Xane shrugged. "You told us all what to do and when to do it, the rest just goes up to how smart they are."

"Well, if any of'em don't show up, they aren't moving on…" and the pair started away, talking about the training shit that Jordan was evidently pulling.

"I'm confused," Quatre noted.

"Aren't you always?" Morgan returned.

"Morgan," Wufei snapped.

"Go fuck your plastic woman," Quatre noted to him, rolling his eyes as he moved away and started for the car. "Try the hole on the front for once."

Morgan started laughing…and Quatre disappeared.

- -

Heero opened his phone with a sigh, hesitating to get out of his vehicle. "Hello?"

"Hey, Chance," Shin muttered as she closed her bedroom door. "You got a few minutes?"

"Always, for you," Heero returned, dropping heavily back into his chair and re-closing the door to his SUV. "What's up?"

"Jordan told you he came over the other day, right?" she asked. "He took Chip to the doctor for me."

"Yeah," Heero agreed tiredly, leaning against his steering wheel. It was Friday afternoon, and though Heero could leave the base in about an hour's time, he was thinking his bed would be nicer. Just _away_ from everyone and every failed thing he'd ever tried on his own.

Jordan always held his hand through every _fucking_ thing…

"Are you okay?" she asked, sounding worried.

"I'm just down," he returned. "It's nothing."

"Chip is feeling better," she offered. "I was thinking…I mean, Jordan invited me for dinner."

"Yeah," Heero noted, closing his eyes.

"So…maybe I could…stay the night?" she asked almost uncertainly.

Heero blinked. "Um…"

"I mean, I'm sure I could get Jor to keep Zach, you know? At least a few hours," she added, sounding uncertain in her teasing.

Heero laughed a bit. "That…I…you want me to pick you up?"

She laughed delightedly. "I knew I could get the man I like to hear back," she noted. "Zach's down for his nap right now…"

"Yeah, until four," Heero agreed quickly. "I get…I get off work at four."

"So go do some sweet talkin' to that friend of yours," she suggested. "We can sit and have a nice chat with them and then…just…you know, whatever."

Heero smirked slightly at the implied meanings of the word.

"So…I'll see you in a bit, huh, baby?"

"Yeah…I'll see you in a while."

"Okay," she made the same sorta kissy noise Chai had made at Jordan and hung up.

Heero blinked at his phone, closing it and pushing it into his pocket before looking up at the main building. He slid slowly out of his car as he smiled slightly, locking the doors. He smiled more as he moved into the building and met eyes with Jordan.

Jordan was blinking at him.

"You got a minute?" Heero asked, jogging to catch up. "I want to talk to you really quick, but I have to go talk to Une."

"I guess," Jordan noted, blinking more at him.

Heero rested a hand on his shoulder, studying his face, then turned and disappeared into Une's office.

"I'm scared now," Xane muttered, looking to Jordan's face. "He's been all over you being a bastard all week…and now he's all chummy again?"

"That was my thought," Jordan noted, then blinked. He reached down and pulled up his phone…to see Shin's name. "Hey? What's going on?" Jordan muttered uncertainly.

"If Chance is right there this is a wrong number," she returned.

"No, he's in with Une."

"Okay," Shin let out a little breath. "I…don't tell him you gave me that money to think about what he said, please. I mean…if you haven't already…is he okay? He sounded really down."

"We've been keeping an eye on him," Jordan reassured her. "I wouldn't have told him about that anyway. I figured you knew to keep it confidential."

"All right, just making sure," she muttered, then smiled slightly. "He sounded happier when I just hung up with him."

"Ah, that explains it," Jordan nodded to Xane. "Okay, I'm not sure when he'll be out, so I'll let you go…you plannin' on coming over for supper some time? Chai's all sorts of curious."

Shin giggled slightly. "Chip is feeling better…bye."

Jordan blinked, closing his phone and looking to his future partner in crime.

"So…who was that? Why don't you want Yuy to know about it? And what blackmail will you pay to keep me from spilling."

Jordan raised his eyebrows at that.

"I'll keep quiet for a kiss," Xane added with a smirk, looking him over. "If only because you're so loyal to your girl."

No one was in the hall, so Jordan leaned over and kissed the guy happily. There was a moment of stunned stillness, then the guy kissed back. Jor pulled away after a moment, starting to laugh when Xane stared at him in amazement.

"Keep your mouth shut," Jordan ordered, snickering a bit. "And come on. It was Yuy's girl. She's been resisting his urges to make it a stronger relationship, that's what's been up his ass all week. She called him just before calling me, and that's why he's smiling."

"You kissed me," Xane observed.

"It was worth the effort to seal your lips," Jor noted, looking to him sidelong. "You have to remember that morals and preferences take second-stage to meeting your ends. A kiss here or there doesn't mean much in the long run, but the results of stunning people past their ability to think have a much stronger staying-power."

"You're not a bad kisser," Xane noted, still somewhat bemused.

"I've had lots of practice," Jordan reassured him, snorting slightly. "Dear-god…you're really bi, aren't you? You aren't just fucking around."

Xane licked his lips and focused on Jordan a moment before looking away.

Jordan snickered again, smacking the guy in the ass. "Go back to the others and tell them I'll be there in a while…and remember, we made a deal. Keep your trap shut."

Xane nodded, then disappeared down the hall toward the conference room.

"She's all confused," Heero muttered a few minutes later when he moved into the hall. He focused on Jor's amusement in confusion. "What's up?"

"Xane just tried to blackmail me," he shrugged. "His end was a kiss."

"He thought you wouldn't kiss him?" Heero looked confused at that.

"Hey, man, I don't make'em. I guess I'm a good kisser, though."

"So says Chai," Heero agreed, grinning slightly. "Is Shin still invited for supper?"

"Of course," Jordan returned. "She wouldn't tell me when she wanted to do it, though."

"Tonight," Heero returned, bouncing slightly. "Could you…watch Chip a bit, too? She says he's feeling better, and he likes you."

"What's in it for me?" Jordan returned, raising an eyebrow.

"A kiss?" Heero offered, smirking somewhat evilly. He got a look for it and laughed happily, considering quickly. "My eternal gratitude?"

"I guess that works," Jordan agreed. "I have to get back to my lessons. Do you think Shin'd be upset if the other guys came over? Would you be worried?"

That got him a confused look, then a shake of his head. "That's fine."

"Okay…I'll see what Chai says and get the message out."

"Great…how's your swat going, anyway?" Heero had started down the hall, but hesitated to ask the question.

"I'm down to about six now," he shrugged. "Mouthy still seems to be the best."

"But he was shocked you kissed him," Heero blinked.

"Yeah, I don't get it either," Jor shrugged. "I'll break him of his innocence before too much longer, I'm sure." He grinned. "See you at supper."

Heero beamed at him, then flounced down the hallway.

Jordan shook his head in amazement, then prayed to any god listening that Heero never found out about that two hundred dollars.


	22. Damage Done

**Damage Done**

Tro let out a low whistle as Heero helped Shin from the passenger seat of his SUV. He'd come around the long way so the passenger side was to the grass when he parked on the street. The Chinese girl was long and slender, though she stood only to about Heero's shoulder. She had her long hair down and was wearing a skirt that Jordan had talked her into letting him buy.

"My god, she's gorgeous," Quatre muttered, moving closer to the window to get a better look.

"Is that a _kid_?" Trowa demanded as Heero pulled Chip from the back seat.

"That's her," Wufei noted quietly. "That's the one I told you about before…I thought they'd ended what they had…that was three years ago…she didn't have a kid then."

Jordan glanced to the line of them at the window. Jon was watching with quiet interest as Paris watched the four at the window with a slightly tilted head. The empath was sitting on the couch, lounged back in a fashion that seemed to be his norm. Chai grabbed Jor's hand and he led her onto the front porch with a slight smile, which she returned.

"Hey," Heero muttered proudly as he walked with Shin up the driveway with Chip on one hip and her hand in his. "We're not too late, are we?"

"Supper's almost ready," Chai reassured him, smiling at the woman.

"Hi, Jordan," Shin muttered quietly, smiling at him.

"He's mine, you know," Chai teased.

Shin giggled. "I have one that might just be better."

Heero's grin, somehow, got even larger.

"Jordan!" Chip squirmed from Heero's arms and bounced across the yard to jump into Jordan's arms. "We're eating dinner at you house!"

"Are you really?" Jordan asked him in mock amazement as the boy's small eyes sparkled in amusement. "That's…what the heck?" Zachary started giggling and hugged him before looking to Chai with interest.

"This is Chai," Jordan informed him. "She's my girlfriend."

"Best?" Chip returned uncertainly.

"My very best," Jordan agreed.

Chai laughed at that as Shin stopped in front of her, extending her hand. As the two women murmured to each other, Jor noted a sharp movement and focused on Heero, who'd pulled a tag off the back of the skirt and tucked it in his pocket while pretending nothing had happened.

Shin didn't realize he'd done it at all, moving into the house after the female as Jordan grinned at Heero.

"What?" Heero asked, blinking at him.

Jordan grinned and moved to follow the women…as he remembered the stunned shock the rest of the group'd had about the woman.

"I'm Jonathon Breer," Jon noted quickly, bouncing to shake her hand.

"It's nice to meet you," Shin noted, smiling slightly uncertainly at him, then looked around to Heero.

"This is Shinyue," Heero explained to the rest. "One of the two most amazing women on the planet."

"Your mother would appreciate that," Jon noted.

Heero smirked. "I doubt it. I meant Chai."

Chai giggled at him.

"This little one," he indicated the boy in Jordan's arms, "is Zachary. We call him Chip."

"You have a lovely name," Trowa informed Shin quickly, moving up to shake her hand. "I'm Trowa."

"No, you're horrible," Chai retorted.

Trowa laughed as Quatre offered his hand with a smile, glancing at Chai a moment. Chai let her quieting slip and Paris really focused on his surroundings. "I'm Quatre Winner," the blond added. "It's a pleasure."

"How long have you two been together?" Wufei demanded evenly.

"A couple years," Heero returned, confused. He focused on his girlfriend again. "You remember Wufei, don't you, sweet?"

Shin nodded, shaking the Chinese man's hand.

"This is my friend Paris," Quatre added, indicating the man. "We don't make a big deal of it…"

"But you're in love?" Jon teased, then laughed evilly and darted into the other room as both men gave him looks that promised his demise.

Chai giggled, resting a hand on Shin's arm and moving to follow the wayward kingpin.

"Chai actually has some quieting ability," Quatre added to Shin. "Paris and I are both fairly strong empaths, so I yank him along for the ride whenever I get a chance."

Jon's laughter turned even more evil.

"Jon is bi," Heero noted to the female. "The only one of us, actually. He finds it easy to rile us from time to time."

"You like it and you know it," Shin informed him with her own little evil grin, kissing him quickly before smiling and moving forward to shake Paris' hand. "Nice meeting you, too."

"You didn't invite the asshole, did you?" Heero asked, thinking of the car in the driveway that he thought was Morgan's. He moved into the kitchen and meeting eyes with the man and sighed in exasperation. "Wufei…"

"Dude, don't even look at me," Wufei muttered. "I told him we were having a thing here," he gave the man in question a dirty look. "And he said he'd hang out at his apartment and we could go for drinks after. I'm not sure what happened after that."

"I got him to come to do some stuff for me," Jordan cut them off. "He won't be here long."

"Not that I want to be here with _both_ of them," Morgan noted pointedly, nodding toward the living room where Quatre was at.

Jordan pointed at him warningly as Shin gave the guy a confused look.

A car pulled up out front and Trowa bounced to his feet. "That'll be Deb."

"Probably…not," Jordan spoke too late. He grinned at his friends a moment as he waited to hear the final outcome, then heard Trowa commenting in confusion.

"Master o' mine, I be no girl!" Xane called from the front door moments later.

"Oh god, you didn't," Heero protested, focusing on Jordan in disbelief.

"Oh spare me," Jordan muttered, moving to the hall. "We're in here."

Xane moved into the kitchen with Trowa behind him. The man looked the group of them over for a moment, then pointed at Morgan.

"You feel weird," Paris informed the new one, moving up behind him. "What are you thinking?"

Xane looked him over, blinking several times, then looked back to Morgan. "I know this is a dinner for Yuy," Xane added. "And I caught that Yuy and Robert just about come to blows over stupid shit."

Heero gave him a look.

"It's nice and annoying to us," Morgan agreed.

"This is a friend of mine," Wufei added, indicating Morgan. "He's my second in my swat team…as Mouthy noted, he and Yuy don't get along…or Winner."

"Nice meeting you," Shin noted with a grin, offering her hand to Morgan.

The man kissed her knuckles as he rose, then moved around to Xane. "Let's go…you're right."

"Casual observation," Jordan explained to the rest when they looked at him. "He gleaned his information from watching the way we all act together."

"So you had Morgan come here to…leave with Mouthy?"

"You know," Xane noted around Morgan from just inside the living room, "I only let Maxwell call me that."

Wufei smirked. "Sorry, sorry, my bad."

"Later," Xane called as the electronic beep sounded.

"Bye," Morgan agreed.

There was the sound of a car, and Trowa moved toward the front of the house again. After a moment, he returned with a brown haired woman with happy eyes.

"Hello," Jordan noted, blinking at her. "Who are you?"

"Your worst nightmare? Your erotic fantasy?" Deb smiled at him.

Jordan blinked and shook his head. "My fantasy is there," he pointed toward Chai's general direction. "So that means you're my nightmare…huh…nice legs for a nightmare."

Deb started laughing delightedly as Trowa snorted.

"I'm Jordan," he added, offering his hand.

There was another brief exchange of formalities, then Chai ushered Jon and Jor from her kitchen. "We have a table set up out back," she explained. "The sun is down just enough now that it won't bother us. Go outside before something decides to happen to our cutlery."

"You need me for anything?" Jor muttered from where he was standing at the end of the bar.

"I'm thirsty," Zach noted to Jordan and Chai curiously.

"Hey, Shin?" Chai called. The woman poked her head into the room. "What can he drink?"

"Oh, I'll…" Shin started, moving toward them.

"No, it's fine. I just know that some parents like to limit a kid's intake of sugars or caffeine."

"I want milk, mom," Chip muttered earnestly to his mother, grabbing her skirt and wrapping it around his hands.

"What do you say?" Shin noted, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Please?" he asked, then looked to Chai with those huge eyes. "Please? I want some milk."

Shin grinned, looking to Jordan as the adults smiled at each other.

- -

Zachary was giggling hard as Heero chased him around, darting around the small trees that had some sort of pattern in the backyard.

Jordan had never properly appreciated the fact that he _had_ a backyard, and when Chai had informed him she and Jon were picking out patio furniture, he'd assumed she meant the plastic chairs. She had not, however, meant plastic chairs.

There was a wire-frame table with a glass-top and chairs that matched it with an umbrella. It was a large table, and there were a lot of chairs. Aside from that, he had also realized she'd told him she'd bought a barbeque grill for him.

"I got you!" Heero crowed, snatching the three-year-old up and tossing him into the air as the boy continued his deep-belly giggling. Zach clung to him as he caught his breath, though it was evidently a hard thing to do with as much laughter as he felt. "Okay, okay," the man added. "Time for a rest…" He moved to sit in his spot again as the little boy stayed against his chest.

Shin smiled at the man as he watched them, and a sort of fleeting sadness crossed her face. The smile, however, returned almost instantly.

"So who does dishes?" Chai asked sweetly. "Quatre and I cooked, so who cleans up?"

Heero blinked, looking to his watch, then looked around a moment before meeting Jordan's eyes.

"You forgot the deal?" Jor asked sweetly in Italian. "That's special."

Heero smirked at him.

"What language is that?" Shin asked, looking between them. "It sounds…familiar, but…"

"Italia, bella," Jordan returned, then laughed as he slid down where he sat. "I can do part of the cleaning, but I don't want to do it all."

"Do I have to move?" Paris grumbled. He'd been folded over on the table since he'd finished his food, and Quatre had noted he'd fallen asleep.

"Just into the guest room," Quatre reassured him.

His head lifted up.

Quatre considered things a moment, then looked to Jordan and Chai again. "Well…can I move in here?"

Trowa, Wufei, and Heero stared at him in amazement. Paris and Jon were both blinking, and Shin was looking around at them all with interest as Deb smirked slightly.

"I…uh…" Jordan looked to Chai uncertainly. He wouldn't rescind his word for the world, but it seemed like an odd time to ask…and he hadn't actually gotten to talk to Chai about it.

"I know…it's your first home," Quatre muttered, looking between them. "And it really _is_ a home…but…in the barracks, there are people _everywhere_…I can't sleep half the time at night…and…well." Quatre bit his lip, "I'd be eternally grateful…"

Chai met Jordan's eyes as the group all studied them with interest. Jordan was feeling horrible because he couldn't remember if Chai had been around when he'd offered the room to Quatre, and he'd told her the house was hers…

Quatre laughed slightly, but Paris was moving to him before the sound even left his mouth. The taller empath engulfed the blond in a hug, and for a moment all you could see was back.

"It's up to you," Jordan informed Chai very quietly. "It's your house."

She smiled slightly at him, then looked around as Paris moved away from Quatre. She smiled larger, then nodded her head. "On one condition."

Quatre blinked at her, wiping at his slightly glossy eyes. "Anything."

She giggled a bit evilly. "Don't be so quick to concede. I _like_ Morgan. I like him coming to visit me. If you live here, you have to be cordial to him."

That got her an uncertainly disbelieving look.

"The house is hers, Q," Jordan noted in mild amusement.

"Can't I just…avoid him?" Quatre pleaded.

Chai started giggling.

- -

"Maxwell," Danielle Duvall whined at him, "it's four in the morning." She, along with Xane, Riley Mae, Judas Ifhera, and Raul Jaem were sitting together in a small briefing room.

Riley had her dark head in Raul's lap, and the dark-haired man had his eyes closed. Judas was sitting in the corner of a small couch with his knees at his chest and his head and arms against his knees. Xane was sitting near them in a chair with a very drained expression on his face. Danielle was sitting near Raul.

"Une said to meet her here at four-fifteen," Jordan shrugged, yawning again as he hoped Chip didn't wake up. "She told me that I had to have my team ready by today, and then she said we had to be in here." He yawned larger, feeling his jaw pop.

"And you call _me_ mouthy," Xane noted, leaning over onto the tabletop.

Jordan gave him a look, moving to sit on the arm of the couch beside Judas. "You okay?" he asked, rubbing the man's back.

…what did he mean, man? Xane, Judas, and Danielle were twenty-one and Raul and Riley were just barely twenty-two.

There was the one note, though, where he himself was only twenty-three…almost twenty-four. The difference was that he'd grown up in wartimes and fought the wars. These five had grown up in the tail end of the wartimes and had not had to fight or survive…just hang on for the ride.

"I'm tired," Judas explained. "I went to bed at eight last night, but couldn't get to sleep."

"Eight is early," Jordan agreed with a grin. He moved around the male to sit on the couch as well. "I was up until three."

"So you took a nap? And you're awake?" Danielle blinked at him.

"I'll only be awake for so long," Jor shrugged.

"Good morning, sparrows," Une announced cheerfully as she moved into the room with folders. "I see you're all here."

"If you're going to be this up and cheery I'll help them light a bonfire for you," Jordan noted.

Une giggled, moving around with folders. She set two on Riley's head and the female giggled herself, catching them before they fell as she passed Danielle hers. She tossed one at Jordan's face, and tucked another between Judas' rear and feet before turning and offering the last to Xane.

"What's the objective?" Jordan muttered, flipping his open and reading down the list of names. "What's the time frame?"

"You and Yuy got the names," Une replied easily. "You passed them to me to get my specialty teams on it…and now I'm passing you the last five people to figure out what you can on them."

Jordan raised his eyes to hers. "This is a real mission?"

Une nodded at him, her expression curious. "I told you to have them ready, didn't I?"

"Okay…" he considered things a moment. "Time frame?"

"By Monday."

"So you called us here at four in the morning…for what?" Danielle muttered, sitting up to blink at her.

"That's my prerogative, soldier," Une noted, moving from the room, then paused as she realized they were supposed to be intelligence. "My people," she noted, "just finished compiling these last names. We didn't want to chance anyone else seeing them."

And with that, she left the room.

"We're the only ones who can see these?" Riley asked, sitting up to blink at her leader.

"I didn't train you for something to do in the odd hours," Jordan noted, closing his folder and tapping it on his lap. "Okay, who's coming to my house to crash on my couches without waking up a visiting three year old or two empaths?"

"Huh?" Danielle asked blankly.

"Winner and one of his friends crashed in my spare room," Jordan explained easily. "My girl is babysitting a three-year-old, and if you're coming to my place, you can spread over my living room until I decide to wake up, but you can't upset my empaths."

"I'm game," Xane yawned.

"What, precisely, does not upsetting your empaths entail?"

"Emotional control," Jordan shrugged. "You come in the house to crash and you focus your emotional shit on being tired or how comfy my nice new couch looks."

"Couch? Singular?" Danielle frowned at him.

"One long couch and two chairs," Xane supplied. "It's a newer place so even the floor is cushy."

"And if you don't come crash there," Jordan added, rising to his feet, "you have to read my fucking mind and meet me there no more than five minutes after I wake up."

"That doesn't suggest getting very good sleep," Raul noted, shifting Riley off his lap. "I'm game."

"I suppose," Riley agreed.

"Whatever," Judas noted.

"I'm leaving," Jordan informed them, starting for the door as Xane instantly moved to follow. Judas uncoiled himself from the couch, grabbing his folder and following as Danielle hesitated. She bounced after Riley as Raul disappeared out the door and wondered briefly if Maxwell would kick her out of the group. She seemed to be the only one who'd argue with him. She followed as well.

Matthew Corringer spotted them as they moved down the stairs, and followed them slowly through the front doors and down the breezeway. The five members of Jordan's special forces were walking along behind the man himself toward their cars. One was walking rather closer to Maxwell than the rest, and when the man stopped in front of his fancy new car, the flunky leaned against his arm to rest his head on his shoulder. Corringer couldn't quite hear them, and didn't want them to notice him…

"Park along the road if you don't fit in the drive," Maxwell noted to the lot, ruffling the hair of the one against him.

Matthew shifted back where he was standing, noting that the entire lot of them were holding folders almost negligently in their hands.

The one leaning against the devil's playmate moved away and into a nice piece of shit car as the others did the same. Jordan waited for them to be safely in their vehicles before he turned and unlocked his own, watching them pull out…before turning his focus on to Corringer.

Matthew stood frozen.

Jordan considered the man a long moment, then spit in his direction…and climbed into his car.

He squealed from the parking lot.

Matthew snorted. "Fuck you, too."

- -

"What did he do?" Xane muttered to Jordan as the guy walked up his driveway. He'd noted someone following them, and had told his leader about it. He was almost disappointed that the male had already noticed it.

"That guy following us?" Raul asked, looking between the pair.

"Matthew Corringer," Judas agreed. "I saw his reflection in the doors on the way out."

"I don't know what he wanted," Jordan shrugged. "I turned and watched him for a minute, but he didn't move or say anything."

"That guy creeps me out," Riley noted, rubbing her arms.

"I like Mat," Danielle returned. "He's always really nice."

"Until he beats my friend illegally during an interrogation," the re-instated soldier looked the group of them over as he noted something in the back of his mind. Trowa had referred to Corringer as Mat before. Not only that, but Heero had noted repeated occasions where the pair of them had fought.

"So, you gonna unlock it?" Raul half-teased.

"Compose yourselves, first," Jordan retorted, taking a deep breath. "We're close enough for Paris to feel us, but Q shouldn't be able to yet."

"Paris?" Riley asked, blinking at him. "Paris Marks?"

Jordan considered it a moment and shrugged. "Sure, that works."

She smiled at him. "He's creepy," she noted, looking to her comrades. "I have a friend who's a quieting and she says that he's always sitting alone…and then he's fine when he starts talking to you, but…he can get…"

"Pure evil," Jordan teased, pulling out his keys to unlock the door. "I like Paris, thank you very much. He may be a bit eccentric, but when you're dealing with strong empaths, you can't expect normal personalities. Do you guys even _know_," he lowered his voice as he let them in, "what they do? Why they're surrounded by quietings?"

"They feel strong emotions," Raul noted.

"Oh, no," Judas shook his head as he closed the door behind himself and flicked the locks. "The weak ones only feel strong emotions, but the ones on the level of Winner or Marks…those fuckers can read _minds_."

"Not quite," Jordan made a gesture for them to quiet even more. "I know that Quatre can almost read minds if you ask him a question before his mind registers what he's seeing or feeling. But it's a sense of your emotions…that's why I said for us all to compose ourselves. I'm not sure how far Paris' reach extends." He pointed to the couch and chairs. "I'll go grab blankets."

By the time he'd returned, Raul had situated himself in one corner with Riley against his hip. Judas had situated himself at the other corner, and Danielle was laying against him. Jordan spread blankets out over the two sets, then focused on Xane in amusement as he dropped the extra two blankets on the floor.

Xane smirked at him in return, then moved to one of the recliners, situating himself before Jor draped a blanket over him and tucked a pillow under his head.

"You play favorites," Riley half-pouted at him. "Why can't I be the favorite? I'm prettier than mouthy."

Jordan snickered, winked at her, then headed for his bedroom, flicking out the living room light as he went.

- -

Paris stared at the wall of the room he was in, startled. He had felt a burning curiosity, then a series of flickering emotions before most of it had died off…and then he'd felt…a friendliness that was directed at him. A pointed fuck-you friendliness…and a moment later he'd realized it was Jordan himself.

In a general way, Paris was used to being somewhat shunned. Growing up had been hell for him because he'd always known what the others were thinking or feeling and it made him different. When the wars had ended and the people came through the high schools, he'd been relieved to be taken into the empath building. Meeting with people like him and feeling their general happiness had helped for a while…until they'd all started treating him like he was different…and then came Quatre.

The blond had entered his life like a spark in the dark, zooming around the building and telling random people to meet him in a room. It wasn't until later that he'd realized that Quatre could see that same spark in the dark, and those sparks were some of the ones he chose for his special training sessions. There were many, like Gina and Varia that were just enough above the average person to be considered an empath…and he'd taken several of those too…there didn't seem to be a pattern or a common thread among his choices.

Now, the blond was excessively happy as he lay curled up on the edge of his mattress. He was also sound asleep. He was aware that Paris wasn't sleeping, and aware that a large group of people had entered the house, but he knew Jordan's emotional signature—Jordan's fingerprint, as it were—and he trusted Jordan implicitly.

Jordan had hurt him so badly…and Quatre still just trusted the man…and Jordan liked Paris.

The empath wondered what effect the re-instated soldier would have on his life in the long run…and wondered if he should be grateful…or scared.


	23. Devil's Due

**Devil's Due**

"You here alone?" a man called Dover muttered to Riley, leering at her in a way only a goodly drunk man can manage.

"'m with my boyfriend," Riley returned, gesturing the general way of Raul. She sipped her cocktail again, studying the man. "You?"

"I came with some friends," Dover returned, then shook his head and started to move away. He wasn't quite walking straight as he looked the bar over.

Riley shook her head, writing down what she learned on a napkin to help process it in her memory. Dover had not been talking to anyone about the line of power. The two other people they'd talked to during the day had been loyal friends or followers of the people in the officer's club, and the information had come back the same.

That left two people.

"What are you doing?"

Riley jumped hard as Jordan snatched the napkin from the bar and shoved it into her drink in disbelief. "Oh, Jor…" she touched a hand to her heart.

"_Never_ write it down," he snapped, glowering at her. "What the hell do you think? What if the barman here is paid to watch?"

"I'm not too worried about 'what ifs'," Riley retorted, pouting down to her now ruined drink.

"It's all in the details, Riley," he hissed in her ear.

"What are you doing? You're gonna ruin the setup," she muttered.

"Hey, buddy," Raul's voice sounded irritated from behind, moving closer. "That's _my_ girl."

Jordan turned an arrogant expression onto Raul. "Too bad for her."

"Get away from me," Riley snapped at him, sliding off the stool and moving more toward Raul.

"If she's yours, why did you leave her at the bar?" Jordan retorted a bit flippantly.

Raul narrowed his eyes at his leader, trying to judge what the next step would be.

"It would have been a pity fuck anyway," Jordan informed Riley, turning and walking away with her cup in his hand. They watched him dump the contents into a trashcan, then set the cup on a passing waitress' tray before looking to each other again.

"Let's go home," Raul suggested, pressing lightly on her back.

- -

Tirone Beedus pressed his throbbing face against the cold pane of glass, staring at an unfamiliar neighborhood. He didn't know where he was, how long he'd been unconscious, or how long before the asshole talking to him gave up on his coercion and put a bullet through his forehead.

All for what? What was the man's intent? He rambled about powerful people coming from powerful families and how the common people should have leaders from amongst their ranks like a proper democracy. He'd ranted about how people like President Wilkon or Zechs Marquise could manipulate the system to do whatever they wanted…and he'd grumbled about Duo Maxwell, an old god brought back to life…or something. He'd mentioned the five former Gundam pilots, anyway. He'd said that Terry Shifton was the best choice of leader if he weren't too humble to accept the position, but Tirone himself would work for the people just as well.

Tirone had made very sure the man believed he'd work for the people.

The guy was either insane or blinded by the kind of loyalty that scares most leaders.

Beedus shifted back in his seat as he noticed a man walking toward a car in the driveway, thinking about the last few days. There'd been a phone call on one of them, and the room had been thoroughly searched…and they'd found his cell-phone. That desperate fear aside, he had to figure he was dealing with powerful idiots…the kind who might forget to lock a door.

Tirone focused on the door to his room, then to the man who was climbing into the car. He was wearing dark sunglasses, and his hair was a nondescript color of brown. The car itself was one of the used-hard type of vehicles you could buy for a few hundred dollars at any used car dealer. One of the kinds that won't stand out on a road, but doesn't have much invested into it…not worth keeping.

He watched the car pull away, then listened to the silence of the house below him.

Had the idiots left him home alone? He almost dared to hope as he moved toward the bedroom door, ignoring the pain all over his body. If he could get away…if he could get away to the police…or were the police here corrupt? Was there an underground movement to be rid of past kings and their families?

He needed to find a map, he noted, testing the door to his bedroom…and watched it open in disbelief. The hall beyond was empty, but he could hear someone downstairs.

How did that one go? Tread softly but carry a big stick? Something like that…and since he didn't have a stick maybe it'd suffice to just tread softly.

Something deep inside him noted that he'd be dead if the people in the house heard him, and he took his time to move down the hall to a cracked door. A breeze brushed his sore face, setting a wound to stinging and he bit his lip silently as he looked the room over.

Empty.

Tirone moved carefully to the window and looked down at the ground, noting that there was a ledge he could probably drop to.

Climbing out that window was possibly the most terrifying thing Tirone Beedus had ever done. God only knew what the people would do if they found him. He basically inched his way down the wall, ignoring the sore ribs and things that informed him he'd be spending weeks on Remalene if…when…he lived through this.

He landed on the ground, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as he waited for the dogs to come after him. He'd been hearing dogs that sounded big the entire time. His heart stopped when he heard a man laugh to his left. He took a moment to tempt fate and move to that corner to see the door to the house shut as the man commented across the building. The dogs were kenneled and eating…Dobermans. Nasty and sleek Dobermans with those ridiculous spiked collars.

Dear lord, something was looking out for him…

He snuck carefully along one fence to the back, climbing it quickly and dropping on the far side as he realized it was an alleyway.

Some sort of god was _really_ looking out for him. He'd gained _some_ sort of special favor. Tirone allowed himself a tight grin, moving down the alley quickly and looking either way on the street.

There was no time like the present to run like a fucking jack-rabbit.

- -

"Pity fuck?" Riley pouted at Jordan as they moved toward the canteen an hour after meeting up after the bar.

"Dude," Jordan muttered, looking at her. "First rule, when we're in any form of character, don't take what I say seriously."

"That one could come back to bite you in the ass," Xane noted.

"Hopefully we'll have done our trust shit well before we do this again so you'll _know_ when to take me seriously."

"Trust shit?" Judas asked curiously.

"Trust games…you know, if I were falling off a cliff and we'd just found a thousand dollars that was also gonna fall off, would you save me or the cash." Jordan looked between them, pulling the door open.

"Is the money on you?" Raul asked, tilting his head.

Jordan laughed and smacked him gently upside the head.

- -

"So he got you a full case of Amber for that shit?" Heero demanded of Eastland in amazed disbelief as he stood with the guard in his little tower. "And all you had to do was give my phone back to me?"

Duty snickered and nodded. "I still have a bunch left, too. He says he thinks it's too sweet."

"He's not big on sweet," Heero agreed in amusement. "I bet you he's buttering you up."

"Why do you say that?" Duty protested. "Come on, can't he just be a nice guy?"

"Oh sure. He _is_…but I bet he's buttering you up. It's one of his things. When he finds someone who might be useful he makes sure he has'em where he can ask favors of them at any time. Shit, I'm so wrapped around his finger he could probably get me to do personal shit for him."

Eastland made a slight face at the idea. "I needed to know that."

Heero laughed delightedly. "Is that the only thing he's done for you?"

"We've only talked once or twice," Eastland shrugged. "He's just a nice guy and I can accept that."

"So speaketh thee by your case of Amber-red?" Heero muttered sweetly. "The hardest single-serve alcoholic beverage on the planet?"

"Exactly," Eastland beamed at the man. "What are you doing out here, anyway?"

"Well," Heero muttered, considering things, "it was mentioned that some confidential materiel may have crossed your path."

That got him an interested look. "I'm sure lots has…why?"

"Well," Heero considered how far he wanted to trust the man, "you know the shit that's been goin' on, right? We closed the base and it's still on high alert…all that fun stuff?"

Eastland nodded.

"Someone got some confidential information regarding decisions made on…"

"Oh, your officer's club!" Eastland nodded his understanding. "Yeah…yeah, I know about the top ten."

Heero narrowed his eyes.

"And I wouldn't tell anyone," he added, making a gesture to placate the former pilot. "I make a lot of friends…and a lot of them don't have any of their own, or no one else they can trust. I lend an ear and once'n a while an opinion."

"And you repeat none of what you hear?" Heero demanded. "You didn't mention by chance...to anyone…who was who?"

"I didn't get the full list," Eastland noted, thinking back to the conversation. "I got the top three names and then the fact that you were in the bottom forty…well," the guy tilted his head. "Twenty? Whatever. The comment was made that you'd made the list…which is cool?" His tone was openly questioning.

That got him a grin. "And you repeated it to no one?"

"Not a soul," Eastland agreed, raising his right hand in the mock of a boy scout's pledge. "It helped me accept that the base was closing down."

"And how about Corringer?" Heero muttered, studying him.

"What about him?"

"He's here all the time."

"Yeah, he is. Anyone who'd say anything to me makes sure I'm alone before they start talking."

Heero nodded, considering things. "We're…a bit lost," he admitted. "Any information would helpful at this point."

"Shit, go shake-down that pretty boy kingpin," Duty gave him a confused look. "He knows, just break'im."

"Um…Breer?" Heero blinked at him. "He didn't do it."

"How can you tell?"

"Findings," Heero gave the man a pointed look. "Internal questioning…the sort of shit that smacks 'you don't need to know' on your forehead. He didn't do it."

Eastland grinned at that.

"If you could keep your ear to the ground for me," Heero added, pushing away from the table he'd been leaning against. "I can make it worth your time."

"Personal or official?"

"Personal," Heero grinned. "If anyone found out that I took the few minutes to come down here and chat with you about this…"

"You weren't sent?" Eastland blinked.

"Oh no," Heero offered the man a smirk. "The official you-don't-need-to-know shit marked you out on a first look-over of the list."

That got a genuine smile.

"I like you," Heero shrugged. "I figured you could feel out these people who like to talk to you for me…I don't need anything confidential, just names of people who might have picked up on the list…any underground bullshit that smacks of treason, you know the sort of thing."

"What kind of shit can you do for me?" Eastland asked, tilting his head as he studied the man.

"What do you need?" Heero returned. "Give me what you want and I can tell you what I'll do."

"More Amber might be nice."

"You don't drink on the job?"

"Don't be offensive."

"Is that all? Shit, I can buy you a case a week…not that it'd do you much good, but hell."

"One a month would be keen."

"I'm hoping this won't take that long to sort out," Heero noted.

"Okay…so three cases over time, and hook me up with that pretty little thing on your team."

Heero actually laughed at that, staring at the male in disbelief. "I have about fifteen pretty little things on my team. I need a…well, a sex to start with. Chick or guy?"

"I like women," Eastland informed him, giving him a look.

"You can't be too careful, darling," Heero reassured him with a smirk. "So that gives me seven. The term 'little' suggests it's one of my shorties, so there're about three."

"Black hair."

"Okay, two…do you know her? Or are we just fishing in the dark? Are you sure she's one of mine?"

Eastland grinned at him, studying the man. "You're perfectly willing to set me up with one of your girls?"

"I don't see you as a threat…I suppose we can call it that. You don't seem like some nappy abuser. I'll get you a first date, but that's all I can manage."

"She's exotic?" Eastland offered after a moment. "I think she might be Indian…like, Asian Indian."

"Doe?" Heero asked blankly, then grinned as the realization seeped in.

It figured.

"Doe?" Eastland asked, looking uncertain.

"Illia Shoas," Heero explained. "We call her Doe because her eyes melt any heart she comes in contact with."

"Illia," Eastland considered it a moment, then tilted his head at Heero.

"She's sweetness embodied, and if you even _consider_ hurting her…she'll kick your ass herself."

That got a startled grin.

"I was gonna volunteer," Heero noted, moving toward the door, "but then she'd try to kick _my_ ass."

"I note the word 'try'," Duty noted.

Heero laughed, winking at him as he pulled out his phone. "Dictate."

Eastland blinked at him.

"Number," Heero informed Eastland, grinning when the startled man repeated his home phone. "I'll call you with details," he added as he started away. "Later."

"Uh…bye," Eastland muttered after him, hitting the button to let Corringer enter the base. "All's well that ends well, huh?"

Heero waved an acknowledgement to the man's salutation, then blinked as his phone started to vibrate. "Talk to me," he muttered as his mind registered an official number on the caller I.D.

"Yuy?"

"What can I do you for?"

Instant babble.

Heero stared at his dashboard as he slowly closed his car door, trying to connect the voice to a face…and then started actually understanding what had been said. He backed out of his parking spot with pursed lips as another car took it. The former pilot didn't bother noting this other person as he drove off toward the canteen. Jordan was supposed to be there…

"Can you help?" the woman demanded, taking a slightly panicked breath. Before he could respond, though, the minor official was off and running again.

"Ranie!" he snapped as he pulled into the parking lot, "you need to _calm_ down."

She took several half-sobbed breaths. "But, Heero…he doesn't know where he _is_."

Heero ran his fingers along the bridge of his nose as someone tapped on the window to his SUV. He blinked at Jordan and rolled down his window. "I need your help," he informed Jordan seriously.

Jordan passed him the fountain drink he'd been holding, then turned to the five members of his crew and started talking. He tossed his car keys to Xane, then moved around the end of the SUV and slid into the passenger's seat, studying Heero's eyes.

Ranie was crying.

"We're on our way," Heero informed her, closing the phone and reversing instantly. He squealed from the parking lot.

- -

"He looked awfully serious," Corringer noted to Duty as he moved up the little sidewalk to the shack. "What's going on?"

"He was bored and decided I needed to be blessed with his presence," Duty replied, grinning.

"That's a mixed blessing."

"Nah, I got him to hook me up with one of the girls on his team," Duty smirked, dropping back into his chair and watching Mat move to sit in the second chair. "What's up?"

"Nothing, really," Mat shrugged, thinking a moment. "I've had a long day."

"Fun, I'm jealous. People keep coming to pester me. I couldn't get bored if you paid me to right now."

Mat laughed and shook his head, shifting down in his seat as he massaged his sore knuckles. "Would you follow Beedus?"

"Tirone Beedus?" Duty asked, blinking as he thought. "Yeah…yeah, he's a good guy."

"Who wouldn't you follow?"

"Isn't that a little deep?" Eastland returned, tilting his head. "Who _wouldn't_ you follow?"

"Relena Peacecraft."

Eastland snorted, "She ruled the world before and it didn't suit her fine palette."

That got an amused sounding snort, and they changed topics onto the date Duty'd lined up. In moments they were comparing her to the last girl he'd been with. This led into the last girl Corringer had been with and the fact that their luck with women only seemed to last for one night.

Corringer frowned and shifted forward. "Just a minute." He pulled his phone out and opened it, glancing at the screen read-up. "Hello?"

"He's gone," the man on the other end breathed in a controlled panic. "The room is empty."

"He's _gone_?" Corringer half shouted in disbelief as he stood up quickly, then looked around to Duty. "My dog," he muttered, then darted for the door…and disappeared into his car. About a half minute later he was at the gate looking to Duty in a kind of panic.

"Must be some dog," Eastland noted, hitting the button before grinning. "All's well that ends well, though."

In almost that same instant, Yuy's silver SUV came sailing down the road. Eastland watched with interest as the car flew by with a slight wave in his direction. Maxwell was sitting in the passenger's seat with a laptop open in his lap, and Yuy didn't bother stopping at the end stop sign, swerving around Corringer's stopped vehicle. They were gone in moments, and a breath later, there was no sign of Corringer either.

Duty moved to pull open a game of mahjong on his computer, shifting down in his seat. "Right."

- -

Tirone moved quickly down a suburban street, swallowing hard as he tried to keep his face from the view of the passing cars. He'd nearly died of joy when he'd reached a payphone and found two quarters sitting in the return bin, and thanked whatever god was protecting him again.

He didn't want to jinx himself by doubting his protector, and at the same time he felt a bit foolish for putting that much faith into any entity he couldn't prove was assisting. He'd called back collect five minutes later to Yuy's voice and a few quick words of confident reassurance. This had been followed by an order to go to a certain cross street that was about six blocks away by Yuy's reckoning.

Beedus had always liked Yuy.

He half jogged up the road, feeling like someone was watching him. He was by no means on a deserted sidewalk, so it was very likely that someone _was_ watching him, but…

To walk those six blocks took Tirone about twenty minutes. He found it amusing somehow that he'd been held against his will an hour prior and had _escaped_ with no one the wiser.

Eerie and two hundred and nine, Tirone stopped, looking around at the flow of cars…until he noted a silver SUV driving almost erratically through the traffic.

Was it Yuy or the others? His heart fluttered in his chest…and he heard tires squeal behind him.

"Tirone!" Yuy's head popped out of the SUV's window…as another man stood from the passenger-side door with a gun raising.

Tirone ran and dived into the back seat of the SUV as shots rang out above, pulling the door shut behind himself and dropping to lay length-wise on the back seat. It was at that point he realized that the man standing out the door had a foot on the chair and a foot on the window. He wasn't holding on inside and the door wasn't closed. The tires squealed and loud clunks against the side of the monstrosity indicated that Yuy'd paid a helluva lot of money for his car…

"Turning!" Yuy shouted…and the car turned.

Beedus watched in a vague sort of horror as the man standing outside the car jumped before the turn happened. The car door slammed shut with the motion, and there was a loud thud on the roof. The shots were still being fired as Yuy took them past a large and tall building…and into an alley.

The man on the roof slid back in through the window with a wild grin as he dropped one magazine onto the floor and loaded another, "that was invigorating."

"Why didn't you kill them?" Yuy snapped.

"Because that'll be the declaration of war we don't need until we know who the _fuck_ we're dealing with."

Yuy slammed onto another road with yet another squeal of tires.

"You alive back there?" Jordan looked around his seat to look at Tirone and grin almost impishly at him. "In all the commotion, I never caught your name."

"Tirone," the man returned, sitting up and extending his hand. "Who're you?"

"Maxwell," Jordan returned happily, situating himself to buckle. "Jordan Maxwell."

"I thought it was Duo," Beedus noted, blinking several times as the comment about the old god brought back to life returned to him.

"It used to be…man you look like shit. You gonna be all right?"

"I don't know," Tirone noted, realizing he was probably in shock or something. "I think I might puke, though."

"Ain't my car," Jor reassured happily. "Fuck, I'm hungry." A moment later, a cell-phone appeared in Tirone's face. "Make your calls, my dear friend, we want everyone to know you're alive and well."

"The well part is questionable," Heero noted, smirking back to the man. "I'm gonna take us the long way…we should stop at a drive-through."

"You're in-fucking-sane," Tirone breathed—normally he disapproved of swearing, but there didn't seem to be any other accurate way to put it.

"Yeah, probably," Yuy agreed, turning down another road with no signal or warning. "Put your seatbelt on."


	24. The Pantheon

**The Pantheon**

"So, great divinity," Heero muttered, turning to look tiredly at Jordan. "What say ye now?"

"I say you need to stop reading old epics," Jordan returned with a yawn. "I'll be your moon."

Heero considered that as Tirone blinked tiredly at them. "You realize that makes no sense, right?"

"I was gonna say I'd be your god," Jordan shrugged, "but you know." The man shrugged, looking back to Beedus with a grin. "Don't mind us."

"I believe in gods now," Tirone informed him though something suggested it was a stupid thing to say. "I had a god watching out for me today…what god are you?"

"The god of death," Heero returned in amusement.

"Not my time to come in, huh?" Tirone rolled onto his side, pulling the blankets up around himself. "And what is the devil's due?"

"Go to sleep," Jordan muttered, looking to Heero. "We can talk more tomorrow."

"Mm…" Tirone's eyes drifted closed…and he fell into sleep.

"What _is_ the devil's due?" Heero teased as he followed his friend from the room.

"You know, between me and you the god thing is just our joke," Jordan muttered, turning to meet his eyes. He shook his head. "Don't be telling people that…especially not when he's just decided he has faith in _something_."

"I suppose," Heero noted with a grin. "He _was_ a full-fledge atheist before tonight. I guess getting beaten for weeks on end might do that to a man, though."

"Why did you tell him that shit?"

"You're the one who saved his ass," Heero noted, taking a drink of the fountain drink he was holding before recoiling in disgust. It was watered-down and flat…when had he even…

"Yuy, is Mr. Beedus asleep?"

Heero threw the cup Jordan had given him hours before into a trashcan and nodded at the nurse. "He just fell asleep as we were leaving."

"He's on a high dose of Remalene for tonight," she noted, then shook her head. For a moment, she wrung her hands together as if thinking, then raised her face to meet his eyes. "Thank you."

Heero rested his hand on her shoulder, then started down the hall again with Jordan in tow.

"I'm curious to know where _your_ loyalty lies," Jordan muttered as they moved toward the SUV.

Heero shook his head as he studied the slight dings and smudges where bullets had hit the side of his car. "Man…this is gonna take forever to get fixed…"

"Chance?" Jordan asked, tilting his head at the man.

Heero met and studied his eyes a moment, then looked back to the car. "With you, divinity. Get in. I need some sort of soda to get that nasty taste out of my mouth."

Jordan gave him a look, then followed him into the vehicle.

- -

"So I jumped onto the roof of the car, I swear Heero was trying to throw me, and kept shooting at the fuckers…" Jordan was spiritedly reciting their adventure to Chai, Quatre, Paris, and his team—full pantomime spirited reciting.

Heero rolled his eyes when Quatre looked to him, rising from the couch and moving into the kitchen…to stare at Morgan in disbelief.

"What?" Morgan demanded, frowning at him as Wufei lay a hand on the man's forearm. He was watching Heero expectantly.

"He didn't seem to appreciate that I was hungry, though," Jor continued his recital. "But you'd think I hadn't eaten all day…"

"You're all fuzzy," Paris informed him.

"Fuzzy?" Jordan demanded in disbelief, then, "what the hell does fuzzy mean?"

Quatre laughed. "Excitement, Duo…and if I have to say more than that…"

Jordan laughed evilly. "…So they came back on us again about a block later…"

"I just didn't realize you were here," Heero returned, moving toward the fridge to pour himself juice.

"Tro and Deb are out back," Wufei noted.

Heero nodded and moved to the back door, studying his friend until the man pulled away from the girl to give him a look. "You listening to this?" he asked the pair of them, indicating Jordan's story.

"I imagine it went drive, shoot, win," Trowa noted. "With the two of you there's no other options."

Heero grinned at him, downing the last of his cup and moving to grab a bottle of Amber from the fridge. He had a feeling Chai'd never had Amber before Jordan went out and bought some for Eastland. The man'd probably bought it for his house as an afterthought.

"He didn't appreciate my offer to chew his food for him," Jor noted to snorts before going on in detail about the drive home and how many frivolous turns Heero…no. No. He was saying Chance.

Heero blinked.

"So now we're speeding down a straight stretch of road…and I shit you not, an entire _squad_ of police cars swarm us…"

"Shock of shocks," Quatre noted…which caused Chai to giggle.

"So Chance holds up his badge," Heero could imagine the pose his friend had struck for the comment. "Doesn't even look away from the car-window, just holds up his badge, makes some _random_-ass gesture…and the cops just drop back!"

"Yeah, Heero _would_ be a person of rank and power," Quatre's tone was highly sarcastic. "They probably shot the scanner at his badge and got blasted with shouts or screams to back down before they got the entire office in trouble."

Heero grinned.

"You guys are all right, right?" Morgan muttered, studying Heero seriously.

"We're fine," Heero agreed, downing a large drink from his bottle. "Things worked out."

"But we've had an assassination on the base," Morgan muttered, looking slightly worried. "You got good people on the leaders, don't you?"

"My team is split up between'em," Heero reassured him. "Zechs came with a few of his own personal men. That makes it easier."

"Where's Jon?" Morgan looked to Wufei, who had an expression of amazement on his face.

"Probably in lock-down," Heero took a long drink from the small bottle.

"You're gonna be smashed in about ten seconds," Morgan was giving Heero a look.

"He…he drinks a lot," Wufei's voice was almost a breath. "If he downs another one like that, then he'll get smashed."

"I'll be nice'n buzzed in a second," the Japanese male reassured the man, finishing off the bottle. "Man…" he turned to the fridge and pulled out another of the small red things, taking another deep drink.

"You're a bastard," Quatre noted suddenly from the space between the living room and kitchen.

"Huh?" Jordan's story was interrupted, though he'd made it to the point of Heero informing Tirone that he was the god of death.

"You bought Amber," Quatre retorted, turning to glower at him. "Do you have _any_ idea how much I _want_ some?"

"So have a bottle," Jordan sounded confused.

"It's too high an alcohol content," Heero noted, clearing his throat some and swirling the liquid in the container. He offered it to Quatre. "Have a drink?"

Quatre gave him a disgusted look, moving around him to dig into the fridge and come out with a juice-bottle. "I hate fuckin' Prozac," he grumbled, moving back toward the living room.

- -

"Just leave me alone," a man called Crater snapped at Danielle. "You're just some two-bit whore and I'm not interested."

Danielle blinked at him in amazement. She thought she'd approached the topic of the line of power obliquely. He'd muttered about it being an interesting topic, then fell silent. When she'd asked if he wanted to dance, he'd decided to flip out on her.

"Jeeze," Judas muttered, turning to look at him from the far side. "She just wanted a dance…I'll dance with you," he added, looking to her.

"Yeah, take the whore," the man grumbled, turning back to the bar and focusing on his drink.

"He got pissed when you noted your family has money," Judas muttered as they started to move. "It seemed to offend him."

"Shit, I was just saying I could afford my own tab," she shook her head.

"What'd he say before that?"

"He couldn't believe who was picked," she supplied, thinking about it.

"A gentlemen was asking me to dance," Judas explained, rolling his eyes slightly. "I missed parts of the conversation."

"Where's our resident demigod?" she muttered, looking around the dance floor.

"Demi?" Judas repeated the word, thinking about it, then nodded toward the doors. "He said to meet him at…our usual place."

"Ah," Danielle looked around to see that Crater was distracted, then nodded. "Let's go."

- -

"You look a little worn," Trowa noted as he moved up the stairs of the apartment building his friends lived in. Matthew Corringer was standing in the door to his apartment with dark rings under his eyes.

"I had a long night," the man explained, looking away. "What're you up to?"

"No good, as usual," Trowa smirked at him. "You should join us."

"What are you doing?" Mat pressed meeting his eyes.

"There are questions about the legality," Tro returned sarcastically, starting up the isle. "If anyone finds out I'll kick your ass."

"I thought you stopped doing that…"

Trowa turned to focus on the man, blinking, then smirked. "We're leaving base to get Parmer drunk. He's only twenty."

"Oh!" Mat laughed a bit at that, then shook his head. "I'm not up to drinking…especially with your crew."

Trowa laughed a bit naughtily, winking broadly at the man. "Me'n you'll have to go get ourselves in trouble some time."

"No real offense intended, buddy, but you scare me."

The laughter there was an evil delight as Trowa turned and ducked in so he was an inch from the man's face, "and I like you, man. What does that tell you?"

Corringer blinked at him, not sure how he was supposed to respond. Somehow, the comment failed to reassure him as he watched the former Gundam pilot swagger, yes, _swagger_, down the breezeway.

- -

"You're not serious," Jordan muttered as he looked at the listing Xane gave him, looking up to the man and shaking his head. "I am _not_ following him into any of those fuckin' backrooms."

Xane shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then shrugged slightly. "He wasn't on the raver side."

Jordan blinked.

"I…I talked to him."

The re-instated soldier pressed the fingertips of his left hand against his eyes. "You went by yourself into the backroom with a possibly hostile client?"

Xane shrugged again. "I've…before…"

"You're a backroom fan?" Jordan opened his eyes to study the guy. "You see Chance back there ever?"

Xane stared at him in utter amazement.

"It's dark back there," Heero noted, moving up behind them. His tone was amused. "You're never really sure who anyone is unless you take the time to find their name or number."

Xane, who'd jumped hard, looked away instantly.

Jordan studied his protégé a moment thoughtfully, then tilted his head to the side. "I need to know what you're willing to do. Unless I absolutely have to, I don't want to do something that goes against your morals."

"I…"

"Wanted to make you happy," Heero noted, patting Jor on the arm once before offering him the fountain drink he was holding. "I know you haven't seen too much, but our groups are _loyal_ to us. The fact that your swat is only five people makes it that much more. Once you get yourselves working smoothly, they'll willingly die for you."

Jordan took the drink and offered Xane a slight smile. "I'd return the favor," he looked to Heero again. "What all did Tirone say?"

"Well, we're dealing with fundamentalists…that works, right? These people are offended by the old money families being in power. Whoever was talking to Tirone was really ramming home the fact that he pulled himself up through the ranks from the streets."

Jordan closed his eyes, feeling his tension headache blossoming again.

"Whoever it is really wants Shifton to be in charge. You sure Shifton didn't do it?"

"I _was_ sure, but it's not like I'm infallible."

"So…my divinity," Xane muttered, smirking at Jordan slightly, "what would you ask of me?"

The old friends hadn't been aware they'd played their joke so hard that the people who didn't know them when it started had picked up on it. They blinked at the younger male in disbelief, then looked back to each other.

"I…suppose…we can…I dunno," Jordan shook his head slightly. "We need to wait for Riley'n'em. You have a report typed up, Yuy?"

"You be my sun?" Heero demanded, shifting back with a slight grin.

"Sure, I'll be your moon," Jordan agreed, turning toward the canteen. "As long as you have me that report."

"That one still escapes me," Xane informed them, following almost like a little brother. "Why do you say sun and he says moon?"

Heero snickered slightly. "We've never been able to agree which would be better. We used to throw mythology at each other about the power of the sun gods and the moon gods."

"Sun gods are stronger," Jordan shrugged. "Life, sustenance, and renewal, all that jazz."

"Moon gods," Heero disagreed, "gain their powers from the night itself…and are connected with females. It doesn't take a genius to note that females propagate the species, so that's the power of creation."

"So…you ask him to be what he believes is more powerful…and he agrees to be what you think is more powerful?" Xane considered that a moment. "And it doesn't seem weird to you?"

Heero snickered as Jordan pulled the door open to allow the pair entrance. "It's fuckin' whacked out shit, but we've never pretended to be normal. Fuck, I call him my _god_. I'm not running for the sanity merit badge here."

Xane smirked, then turned to look at Jordan. "The spring brings life."

Jordan gave him a very level look, then led them toward a window-booth.

"Just don't make it something anyone else'll focus on," Heero muttered to the guy. "Ask him to be your god without making it seem like it means anything. I bet you fifty dollars he'll agree to be your spring."

Xane smirked more at that, sliding into the booth next to the guy. "I'm really hungry."

"It's nine," Jordan agreed, glancing to his watch as the waitress moved toward them. "The others will start showing up soon."

"Order them all food?" Xane suggested.

"Yeah," Jordan agreed, studying him. "I want to know how well you know them. Order all our stuff."

"Uh," Xane looked to Heero uncertainly, then back to Jordan. "All?"

"Active male with a high metabolism," Jordan noted. "I'm thinkin' a salad'd be a bit understated."

Xane considered that information, then looked to the waitress.

"If that's the case, I'm gonna go get the report…divinity high," Heero flashed Jordan a smirk, and disappeared toward the door.

Jordan gave Xane a very level look, and grabbed Heero's fountain drink.

- -

Quatre grinned as Paris tucked his small collection of books into a box, then started tucking random objects with them. He was almost scared of the fact that he _was_ moving out of the one place he'd called home for five years. The idea of waking up and not having Heero already in the kitchen with the coffee brewing and breakfast cooking seemed odd.

That one was an always. Heero loved to annoy his roommates by being the first one awake in the morning. For a long time none of them were even sure he _slept_…until they realized he slept light. How he'd predict….that was beside the point. Heero always woke up, started the coffee, and made some sort of breakfast food.

"What are you thinking?" Paris muttered, looking around to his friend.

"Heero is a creature of habit," Quatre explained. "Duo used to get him to make their breakfast when we were in the studio apartments. He gets up every morning and does that…he gets addicted to things really fast."

"Ah," Paris crammed a few things on top of the boxes and moved it to the other box they'd packed. "Clothes?"

"Sure. I'm just thinking about that fact that I'm moving out of here."

"You've thought about it before," Paris noted, starting to pull the folded clothes from the drawers into another box. "You get sick of them every six months."

Quatre laughed, giving the guy a look. "It's different," he explained. "When I get disgusted with them I generally want to get away for a while. I'm actually leaving."

"Ah," Paris nodded, then grinned at him. "It's about damn time."

Quatre laughed. "Yeah, if only it was into a place of my own."

"You don't want to be alone," Paris noted.

"See, here's the thing," Quatre returned with a larger grin, "you would be there."

Paris smirked at him, then tilted his head. "Why don't you just _buy_ a place, really?"

"Because the family's not entirely sure I wasn't disinherited. There's a bit of debate going on, and since I'm still military it's not going out any time soon. I hate fuckin' pacifists," the blond tossed a handful of CD cases into his box, "they can never get anything done."

Paris started laughing.

- -

"You're one twisted bastard," Judas noted to Xane in amusement, studying the guy over. "Did you go _in_?"

"Does it matter?" Xane demanded skeptically.

"What time did he leave?" Heero muttered, poking Jordan's shoulder.

"At about seven," Jordan replied.

"Twenty minutes in," Heero noted, thinking a moment. "Five minutes across the club…so about a half hour to get back there…add in the time to find the guy?"

"Ten," Xane muttered, looking away.

"So that's forty minutes…and then to leave and come back is an hour five…no. He didn't join the fun."

Jordan raised an eyebrow at his friend.

"What?" Heero asked, sitting back and looking at Xane. He turned his head slightly to look at Jor, "the question is how you get back there, get the info, and get out without raising suspicion."

"They reached capacity," Xane suggested, grinning as he studied the man.

"One-fifty? You tryin' to tell me that on a Sunday night they got one hundred and fifty people into the back room?"

"They ran out of Pearl," Xane grinned more.

"They have Pearl running on tap from the basements to the entire club…this includes the casino and the buffet. They would never run _out_ of Pearl."

Xane laughed almost delightedly, thinking a moment.

"See his eyes?" Heero asked, pointing at the guy's face. "He's making something up."

The group blinked at each other, then focused on Xane, who was grinning at them.

"Remembering," Heero muttered, his eyes shying up and toward the right, "Is…um…"

"That's remembering," Jordan noted, smirking slightly.

Heero grinned and shrugged, looking back to Xane expectantly.

"You recall the bit where I'm training them, right?" Jordan asked curiously, studying Xane. "I mean…minor functions like hiding a lie are like breathing to me."

"And that's a lie, isn't it?" Heero muttered, studying Jor seriously. "I hate that I can't tell for sure."

Jordan laughed himself.

"The lockers were full," Xane shrugged. "I coulda left my shit out, but I sorta have base passes in my pocket and things…that sort of thing needs locked up."

"So you were gonna go in?" Heero's expression turned very serious as he looked to the guy.

Xane smirked at him, then went back to his food. Jordan patted Heero's shoulder, and also focused on the food.

"I claimed expensive phone after we'd talked a bit and took my leave," Xane added after swallowing since he was still being watched. "He didn't think twice about it."

"You don't need to expound a good lie," Jordan noted. "He was content with the lockers being full. Just remember that if we're on an extended outing we have to make what we say _true_. Keep your lies simple, even to the extent of saying you have a boyfriend instead of that you're single. You know? Nothing that you can't fake on the spot." He looked from one of them to the other, "and gods above, if one of them," he indicated Heero, "tells you to do something you better do it with gusto. I use them, and if I'm using you and them both we _all_ have to work together. Even if it means disobeying my direct orders."

"If I'm coming in with my swat," Heero noted, "I'll come in first with my gun, and that's your cue to drop everything and get your asses _out_ of there. There are only five of you for now," he surveyed the group in a way that reminded Jor of the officer's club. "But there will be more. You five will be the leads. You five will be the ones I'll search out…and you five will be the ones I _will_ recover."

They blinked at him.

"Ah, that's very nice," Jordan muttered, almost mock-flattered as he sat forward to face his friend. "It's a very nice speech."

"Thank you," Heero returned, grinning a bit, then shrugged. "I expect the same in return."

"So tomorrow," Jordan noted to his group, "we'll be meeting Yuy's crew."

Danielle giggled slightly.

"And then they'll drop us off with a paperclip, a string, and a stick of bubblegum and we'll see if we can survive a week in the woods with nothing but the clothes we were born in."

Heero started laughing.

"Um…don't you think…that'll be a bit…cold?" Judas asked, mocking an uncertain expression.

Jordan joined Heero's laughter.

- -

Wufei sighed as he exhaled, watching the cool wind whip the smoke away. He was sore all over, and very tired. He'd been wanting to drink more than his normal, and had even considered heading off base to Sins. Carson, one of his men and a friend of he and Morgan, had talked him out of that in favor of some quiet time on the roof.

Morgan laughed evilly. "Tro's comment was that it went something like drive, fight win…and he has a point."

"I thought you didn't like Yuy," Carson protested, moving to sit on the edge of the railing deal. "I thought you two couldn't exchange a civil word."

"It's Chai," Morgan grinned. "She informed us that there'd be no fighting in her house and shoved our faces in the fact that we're both grown men. She does funny things to people…I think I could actually _like_ Yuy."

Carson laughed. "I like him. He's one of those action heroes, you know? The kind that show up out of nowhere and disappear into the night? Super Yuy!"

Wufei choked, starting to laugh a bit helplessly at that. The comment had been complete with Superman extended arms.

"Seriously," Carson protested to the Chinese man. "He kicks almost as much ass as you do!"

Wufei grinned at that.

"You know, it's a funny thing," Morgan added, thinking, "but I kinda like Winner, too…he's still an asshole, but I kinda like him."

"Haha," Wufei muttered, grinding his cigarette out. "I told you you'd like my friends."

"It just took a few years."


	25. Plot Development

**Plot Development**

_Life is green apples. Sour, tart, with something of a bad after-taste…but for that **one** moment, it's good…_

Jordan yawned, and Heero grinned very slightly at his friend before going back to the sheet of paper in front of himself.

_And it's those **tastes** we live for, right? Those instances where nothing can go wrong no matter how hard we try, because as soon as we swallow it's all done…_

"What are you doing?" Jordan muttered tiredly, shifting over where he sat to study the large and slightly angled print of Heero's handwriting.

"Hey," Heero protested, pulling the sheet from view.

"Diary, huh?" Jordan smirked at him, sitting properly again.

"Thought processing," Heero retorted, giving his friend a dark look.

"You write like a chick," Jor noted.

…and it degenerated into a wrestling match as the sheet of paper slid un-remembered beneath the bench the pair had been sitting on.

"I almost want to know," Wufei noted as he moved toward them. "But something tells me I shouldn't ask."

Jordan laughed delightedly, shoving Heero off as he sat up again properly. "Morning, Fei."

"Morning, Duo," Wufei muttered, then blinked.

"Don't call me that," Jor responded instantly. "You sleep good?"

"Not really, but hell," Wufei shrugged. "Makes no difference in the end."

"You're in a chipper humor."

"Not all of us have someone to hold."

"So remedy that," Jor gave him a skeptical look.

It was Wednesday, July Fifth. The previous evening had been mostly spent at a large field with the entire base and whoever they could get cleared to enter the grounds for the fireworks. Naturally, Shin had shown up, and Jor always had Chai. Quatre had ended up with Gina and disappearing before the proper end of the festivities, and Tro had Deb.

Wufei spread his arms and looked around pointedly.

Heero rolled his eyes obviously, tossing the pen he'd been using back on the bench. It had been there when he had met up with Jor.

"You kinda have to _talk_ to them," Jordan confided, leaning forward slightly. "I've found that 'hi' can be a fairly decent pick-up line."

Wufei had to grin at that, then sighed and dropped next to his friends on the bench. He watched Quatre moving toward them with a tray of coffee cups, then focused on the pair next to him. "I'm tired, guys."

"So go back to bed?" Heero offered.

"That's…not the tired you mean, is it?" Jor asked Wufei, though the look he gave Quatre indicated the question wasn't really directed at the Chinese man.

"It's this nifty thing called depression," Quatre informed him cheerily. "And they put you on this nifty drug called Prozac."

"Fuck that," Wufei shook his head as he took a cup. "Thanks…and I'd rather just go through you four."

"You touch my heart," Trowa muttered, moving up from the other side, reaching for a cup.

Quatre laughed as Heero gathered his own and took the tray itself to throw away.

"Thanks…"

"What's going on?" Trowa added, looking between them. "I didn't hear what was said."

"Wufei's depressed," Jordan explained. "It's time for a brain-storm. We all need some sort of a pick-me-up."

"I'm happy," Quatre protested. "I go home to a quieting…sorta," he flashed Jordan a grin.

Jordan grinned back at him, resting back in his seat and thinking. "Do you know why you're down, Fei?"

"Not really," Wufei returned, fiddling with the hand-protector of his cup. He hadn't meant to bring up the topic at all, though he'd gotten several looks from Quatre that had suggested the male'd jump on it as soon as he found an opening.

At least he had that…Quatre wouldn't call him out.

"I just…I dunno," he sat back himself, looking to the ceiling of the breezeway. "What are we _doing_ here?"

"That's either stupid or deep," Heero noted with a grin. "I can't tell which."

Wufei gave him a look and shrugged. "Nothing, never mind."

They all looked to each other, then back to their cups.

"That's not fair," Quatre protested, giving them all looks. "When I say nothing you all ride me until I fess up."

"But you _will_ fess up," Heero reminded him. "We know you'll fess up, that's why we push you…it's this vicious cycle. The more you admit the more we know it works and the more we push. Eventually you'll get to a spot that we'll give you a look and you'll spill…Wufei, on the other hand, will avoid us until we stop talking about it."

Wufei gave him a look.

"I'm not making a joke," Heero noted, looking around the group. "So we're back at the upper. When I'm feeling shitty I go get drunk, have a night where I cry in my beer, and get over it. It seems like a logical move to make. We can call in collectively absent tomorrow and piss Une off. That'll help, too. Nothing better than pissing her off, huh?"

"What about Jon?" Jordan noted somewhat morosely. "We've got him off the immediate hook, but I want to know who tried to set my friend up."

"Shifton didn't do it, right?" Wufei asked, studying the guy. "You're sure?"

"I _was_ sure, but I'm not infallible. Just like there are people who can trick blondie…"

"Hey," Quatre protested.

"…there are people who can fool me. We still have a ring of men whose accounts we can't access unless we make them suspects, and that'll throw a spotlight on us. Who's up for some constructive hacking?"

"That'd work until a court hearing," Heero noted. "We have to do this the legal way or just fly under the radar…the entire way. We already had the fuck up when they panicked and closed the base down. There's something going on that we don't fully understand and the public knows something is up."

"On a very real note," Jor muttered, focusing on the guy, "fuck the public."

"Try getting that one to fly in court."

"I don't do court, Chance," Jor noted.

"But we _have_ to now. The days of us going out and assassinating the bad guys slipped by with the wars. We got away with some rough crap from our so-called battle stress…but people expect us to be normal now. We can't just go…"

"I didn't say we needed to go kill people," Jordan snapped, then rose to his feet. "This is just stupid. What _all_ did Tirone tell you?"

Heero recapped the man's story in a quiet voice, studying his coffee cup as the sun rose higher on the eastern horizon. The conversation was quiet as the five former fighters shifted around on the bench, taking turns sitting or standing as they drank their slowly cooling coffees. The silence when they'd run out of things to say was deafening as a car drove through the parking lot.

"I hate this," Jor muttered, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "I keep getting a tension headache, Fei feels like shit, and all we have to go on is that the assholes are fundamentally inclined, willing to kill, and that Crater was probably the one who leaked the information."

"You have people watching him, don't you?" Tro muttered. "Mouthy or the others?"

"Xane's around me too much," the soldier shrugged. "I asked Riley to see what she could get out of him. Danielle pissed him off."

"Pretty face like hers?" Tro protested, giving him a mock disbelieving look.

"Our main reason for believing he may have leaked," Jordan explained, "is because when she noted she could pay for her own drinks, he asked about her job. She doesn't get paid too much for this…the bare minimum, but she's from old money. He decided she was a whore at that point, and that he didn't want anything to do with her."

"Wonderful," Heero noted, rolling his eyes. "Not only are they stupid, but short-sighted and narrow-minded. I bet they'd stone anyone who said they were gay…he without sin, huh? They're perfect."

Wufei grinned at him. "That's a bit short sighted and narrow minded."

Heero snorted again, grinning slightly.

"I'm not saying you're wrong," Wufei reassured him a bit facetiously, "just that we must guard against anger…or something."

"Ancient teachings, oh learnéd one?" the blond teased.

"You're the jackass who didn't take his schooling overly seriously. If Nataku weren't killed, I wouldn't be here. I'd be off doing some ground breaking research in a white jacket."

The name gave them all pause, and they waited a moment in silence, not sure what could be said.

"Maybe that's my problem," Wufei muttered, looking over the parking lot to the mountains and the clouds promising rain on the horizon. "I should be home with kids bothering me to make them something to eat while I try to think of a good excuse to put it off until their mother wakes up." He sighed as he imagined it, pushing himself off his seat, "or that thought process did me no good. Listen," he added, looking between them. "I'm gonna go lock myself up in my room for a while. I'd appreciate it if you left me alone."

"But being alone is worse," Quatre protested quietly, studying his face. "Fei…" he looked to the others a moment, then moved forward to grab the man's forearm. The Chinese male had shrugged and started to walk off. "I know I'm not very useful, but I know emotions…and I know that if you go burry yourself in your room you'll pull away more."

"Just for a few hours," Wufei protested, not trying to break away. "Just…"

"You realize this hurts him, don't you?" Jordan asked, narrowing his eyes at the male. "Paris pointed out to me a while back that the ones closest to him are attached more."

Wufei frowned, then focused on the blond. "Not very useful? What the fuck you talkin' about?"

Quatre shrugged slightly, looking away. "I don't do much…"

"You're only the spotter," Heero noted, thinking back to the incident that had occurred the first night they'd found Jordan…that among the hundreds of other times he'd given them cues.

"The coordinator," Jordan agreed, giving the guy a look.

"The one who got us to work together in the _first_ place," Trowa agreed.

Quatre blinked at them.

"We're a team," Wufei noted, looking him over. "We wouldn't function without you…we could go without _Duo_…"

"Don't call me that."

"…but we'd die and fall away without you."

Quatre grinned a bit at that, then shook his head.

"Just for an hour, huh? Maybe two?" Wufei looked around at the lot of them. "I just want to be alone for a while."

"In two hours we'll come drag you out," Heero noted. He looked to his watch. "We'll eat lunch at the canteen, and you'd better show up either with or before us or we'll come kick your door in so you can't lock us out."

Quatre let the man go, looking away slightly.

"I'll be all right," Wufei reassured Quatre, patting his arm as he tried to meet the blonde's eyes. "Everyone needs time to themselves sometimes…okay?"

The blond nodded, meeting his eyes.

Wufei grinned slightly, then sighed and turned toward his car, looking to his watch. He knew Heero wasn't lying, and he had no intentions of losing his bedroom door.

"It's weird to think he was married," Jordan noted as the car backed up and drove off. "It's hard to imagine what it must've been like to lose a wife."

"They didn't get along," Heero reminded them. "It wasn't like our grief would be."

"Did he ever say what time of year she died?" Trowa asked, looking between them. "Seems like every summer he gets in a mood."

"I wonder if he even remembers…not all the colonies gave four seasons," Quatre shoved his hands in his pockets, thinking. The depression of Wufei wasn't a physical wound like Jor had made it sound. It was more like a general ache.

"You guys?" Heero asked, looking between them until the focused on him. "They all _died_…his entire family…everyone on that colony."

A sick sort of pit opened in Jordan's stomach as he remembered the image that was ingrained in his memory…the lone Gundam in space and…

Quatre was puking between the cars, and that brought a group reaction. The three of them moved to him at once, focusing on _anything_ other than that horror. Jordan grabbed his left arm, and Trowa his right. It was more a reassuring gesture as Heero rubbed his back.

"Holy _shit_," the blond gasped as he stared at the mess. "It's been for fucking _ever_ since I did that…"

"You were trained?" Heero asked Jordan as the thought processed.

"What?"

"If the higher ups know you're messing with an empath," Trowa explained, letting Quatre go. "They make you attend a week long training session of how to deal with them."

"Gee, that's flattering," Quatre commented wryly. "Now you _deal_ with me."

"I always deal with you," Trowa retorted.

"Why would you need a training for that?" Jordan asked blankly, looking between the two.

"I couldn't figure that part out myself," Heero admitted. "Though it did help me pattern my reactions more."

"It showed me a new angle to think about it," Trowa admitted. "I mean…I was never so quick to react as you two, but I wasn't completely stupid."

"I don't like this conversation," the blond informed them.

The three focused on him, then looked to each other and shrugged.

"You realize that touching me opens something, don't you?" Quatre asked Jordan curiously. "Especially in instants like that," he indicated the mess as they moved away from it.

"Touch has been a reassurance since the monkeys climbed down from the trees," Jordan shrugged slightly. "It always worked before when you had your freak-outs."

"Like you're any better," Quatre retorted, a bit miffed by the comment.

"We're not talking about me, though," Jor smirked. "We're talking about you."

That got him a grin as Quatre turned toward his car. "I'm going to brush my teeth…anyone want anything from the house?"

"I'm good," Jor reassured him. "I'd tell you to kiss my girl for me, but then you probably would."

Quatre flashed him an impish grin, then slid into his car.

"Barton!" a redhead bounced out of the main office building with a huge smile on his face as Quatre drove off. "Why are you out _here_?"

"Doug!" Trowa's voice was delighted as he darted up to his friend. "I was starting to wonder when you'd drag your happy ass back in."

Jordan looked to Heero uncertainly, and he shrugged slightly. He made a gesture that somehow indicated to Jordan that it was Tro's second. How a vague hand motion meant that was beyond Jordan, but he decided not to dwell.

"I kept checking your office," Doug informed Trowa pointedly. "It's hard to find you there when you're outside."

Trowa laughed, indicating the remaining pair, then blinked. "Oh, shit! Jordan!"

Jordan moved forward, studying the guy curiously…and Doug's jaw dropped. He made a vague gesture toward the back of his own head, where a braid would have hung, then turned to look at Trowa in disbelief.

"Jordan Maxwell," Trowa muttered, "meet Doug Filmore. Doug, meet Jordan Maxwell. Doug's my second."

"It's an honor to meet you, sir," Doug muttered, offering his hand. "I've heard good things about you."

"Not many," Trowa noted.

Jordan smirked at his friend and shook Doug's hand in return. "Nice to meet you, too, sir."

"Don't call me that!" Doug looked vaguely flabbergasted.

"Return the favor and we'll have a deal…sir."

Doug grinned at him.

"How was your mom?" Trowa muttered, focusing on his second again. "She's not…"

"She was just bed ridden for a few weeks," Doug explained with a shrug. "Sorry I took so long. I meant to come in sooner, but she kept begging me to stay."

"I've been here a month and a half," Jor noted, raising an eyebrow. "How come we haven't met yet?"

"He left the day before you cut off your braid," Trowa explained. "He'd saved up some leave time, and then his mom hurt her back?" he looked to his friend, waiting for a nod. "And then I granted him…amnesty," Trowa smirked, "so he didn't have to rush back."

"Yeah, thanks," the guy muttered wryly. "She saw you telling me and that was that. She rode it to the limit."

Trowa laughed. "I live but to help my friends."

Doug grinned more, then blinked as his stomach rumbled audibly.

"That was my thought," Trowa noted, grabbing Doug's wrist and pulling him toward his car. "Let's go eat."

"He's going to be impossible until he's reassured himself that it's the same guy," Heero noted to Jordan, watching the car back out. "You realize that, right?"

"Kinda like us, huh?" Jor grinned. "I think half the god shit anymore is because we can now and couldn't for five years."

"I can't yank your braid anymore," Heero noted, studying the shorter length of his friend's hair. "You'd catch me if I tried for that mop…"

"Yeah, so I need a haircut," Jor gave him a look, starting for the building. "I seem to recall you mentioning something about an office at some point…we should go discuss that in detail…with Une."

"You want an office?" Heero demanded, following him toward the building. "I knew you were weird, but this is a bit…"

Jordan hit him.

- -

Jordan had gone.

Heero moved slowly along the breezeway, noting one of the support beams and looking up. He could remember a time when that would have been considered a hop. He could remember a time when extreme physical exertion was second nature…when it was like breathing. Could he jump it now?

The problem with remembering Wufei's past was that his own came to mind…his lack of memory from childhood had bothered him once. He'd hear his crew or his friends describing memories, and thinking back the only thing he really remembered was gun stats. How far you change your angle when the wind was blowing compared to your target.

The people he'd killed hadn't been people

The killing of these peoples in and of itself wasn't much of an issue for him. He'd never let himself think about, or care about, the full meaning behind taking those lives. There was no point. What would he do? Go put his life in these families' hands? Shit, he'd never even learned their names to begin with.

But that was sad, wasn't it? He could remember killing people, but he didn't care about it. Seeing a human through the crosshairs…that was something he refused to do now. Those crosshairs had meant death to him as a child. Any person he'd consider through the crosshairs would be subject to the logic of how needful their death was, or how little it would matter.

To distract himself from that depressing line, he moved to one of the support poles and looked toward the roof of the breezeway. He could, of course, get to it easily, but would he be _able_ to get to it easily, if that logic made any sense at all.

Did it matter? It was all in his head anyway.

Heero launched himself from the firm pavement, and marveled when his feet landed on the rooftop. He hadn't thought he'd make it straight-away. He wasn't completely out of practice…so maybe those things that had been drilled so hard into him were still simple muscle movements?

Of course, considering that was considering what had been done to him…how he'd been trained to not _feel_ anything. It amused him that it was Jordan who'd forced him to feel, or when he was feeling without provocation, it had been Jordan who'd explained it…

And it was Jordan…not Duo. But then again, Jordan called him Chance regularly, didn't he?

Heero moved easily along the roof of the breezeway. It only took him a few steps to alter his motions to silence, and that amused him. For a moment he just enjoyed something that seemed somehow forbidden…like his own practices in stealth were against the rules.

Did it not matter anymore that he had successfully infiltrated Relena's school all those years before? Did it not matter that Trowa'd made it high in the ranks of the enemy? …shit, he'd even made it against Une herself.

Why was it that her precious _Duo_ could do these things while the rest of them could not? Shit, Jor'd been captured during the war, and when he had taken to hiding in a colony he'd managed to completely freak out when his MS was destroyed.

Why did Une think Jordan was so special?

Heero knew there was something different with the guy. Those times when he referred to the man as a god, he meant them. Quatre would follow after like a puppy when the emotional strain of others was becoming overwhelming…but that was all, wasn't it? Wufei had issues with the single-minded acceptance Une afforded the former pilot…and Trowa was Trowa. There was something elementally wrong with the man, if it was _only_ that he was clinically apathetic.

"_There_ you are…" the door to the main building closed and Heero stopped. He recognized the voice. "I said to meet me here hours ago."

_But we've been here for hours,_ Heero noted.

"The Gundam pilots were parked out here," another voice returned. "I somehow didn't think it'd be a good idea to meet up with you here with them within striking range."

"That's true," the man, Matthew Corringer, agreed. "Why did you call me?"

"I feel like I'm being followed," the man snapped.

Heero's eyes strayed across the parking lot as a movement caught his attention.

Riley was standing near a building at the end of the parking lot.

So was this Crater? Heero made a gesture to catch her attention, then the motion that meant fallback. He didn't know what Jordan had taught them, but there were some very elementary signs the five of them used that they'd realized were the same…

Riley nodded tersely and disappeared from view.

"Followed?" Corringer sounded slightly sarcastic. "Why would you be followed?"

"I don't know," the other hissed. "You told me yourself that the bastards Maxwell and Yuy saved Beedus."

There was a strangled seeming noise, followed by a silence.

"Maxwell is an asshole," Corringer muttered after a moment, "but his rank is completely of his own making. He didn't have it handed to him like Winner or Chang…show him some respect."

Wufei'd been handed anything on a silver-platter? Heero shook his head. If he had been, then it'd gone boom with the rest of his world that fateful day in one-nine-five…or was that one-nine-six? It was hard to remember…

"What about Yuy?" the guy demanded. "He was trained since infancy to be what he is…"

If that wasn't the truth…

"I know," Corringer retorted. "I just don't like him."

_Damn, the feeling's mutual…_ Heero sat silently on the far side of the slanted roof.

"I know I have paranoid tendencies," the other man muttered, "but I honestly feel like someone is watching me…like, this chick at the bar was all over me…"

"Are you really that undesirable, Crater?" Corringer was amused.

Okay, that answered that.

"It's not _right_. Women like that are…evil."

"_Evil_?" Corringer's tone was scathing. "Crater, no woman is _evil_."

It was odd to share a thought with a man he hated, and Heero decided he'd never bring it up in conversation.

"I dunno, she just seemed a bit weird."

A note for Jordan.

"…but I feel like I'm being watched." Crater fell silent a moment. "I feel like I'm being listened to…like, now."

So he had some empathic abilities…Heero made a conscious shift of his emotional state from merely hidden to…well, nothing.

"I dunno," Crater groaned a bit. "I thought I saw a girl following me earlier…"

"You're just being paranoid," Corringer noted sarcastically. "Have you found anyone?"

"Beedus, Baits, and Marquise are under constant watch," the guy muttered. "Beedus and Baits have Yuy's bitches ridin'em like obsessive sluts…"

_**That** was offensive…_

"…and then Marquise has his loyal men and a few of Yuy's bitches, too."

Corringer made a thoughtful noise. "We'll just have to stay under radar," he noted. "We'll just have to keep our heads down. Until this high alert passes…" the man made another noise. "I should kill them for letting Beedus escape like that. It was bad enough they fucking went through that _window_ to save Baits."

"You found anymore about Doll?"

Heero's blood ran cold.

"They use him," Corringer explained in a dismissive tone. "He'll be of no real use…but there's another. I haven't found out his name yet, but he's attached to Maxwell. He's some cute little guy, you know the type. If we get down to the wire we can grab him and keep him locked up…give Maxwell a few atrocities to make him docile." The idea in and of itself was horrifying…not Xane…Xane had no real world experience. "I don't imagine it'll be too hard to break him. With the way I've seen him moving for touches of affection, beating the fuck out of him will terrify him…and I really wouldn't mind getting even with those two fuckers."

"You gonna kill Breer?" Crater asked curiously.

"Not yet," Corringer reassured him. "Terry is fond of him. We may be able to use him if we can get him to understand the situation."

Heero realized that it was time to graduate Jon from the base lock-in he'd been in to a home lock-in or something similar, where the man could just move _in_to Jordan's…or maybe even get sent back to Angels. In Angels, Jon was the rule…at least, in his part of Angels…and if Jordan went with him they could…cooperate and keep Jon safe.

Lives didn't mean all that much to Chance. If the god of death required those lives, then they would be given to the cause.

Heero wondered briefly if Chance was becoming some sort of split personality, or an easy way to shift moralistic blame away from his own psyche…

"I got the impression that Maxwell had Breer in his pocket," Crater protested.

"We're talking about _Terry_," Corringer returned. "For those of us who know him, there's no doubting him! He _should_ be the leader! No one knows what's going on," he added. "I've talked to Barton several times, and he doesn't react like someone who knows."

"But Barton…" Crater started.

"I can read him," Corringer snapped. "He's apathetic and will answer honestly. He'll be the way to get my heads-up if something _does_ start coming down. In the mean time, we need to keep a low profile. You got the names for me. Your part was a complete success. Now you need to sit back out of sight and when Shifton ascends his rightful throne…"

It was all Heero could do to keep from snorting.

"…then you'll be rewarded. Can you do that? Can you sit back and do as you're told?"

"You're sure about this? You're sure Shifton is right? You're sure what we've done this far will get overlooked?"

"The Gundam pilots are clueless," Corringer reassured him even more. "No one else would have the means or the freedom of movement on or off the base to pull it off. We're safe. I heard Beedus talking myself. He had no idea who I was. He never saw my face…and the rest of you stayed out of sight."

Heero wished he'd set his phone to dictate this conversation. If he had, all he'd have to do was take it into Une and everything would be finished aside from finding out the list of people who helped. He clicked his phone manually into the mode, hoping…

"So I'll see you on Friday for lunch, right?"

"Yeah…you're paying?"

Corringer snorted in disgust. "That should be obvious. I'm expected in the mech building. I have to go now."

"All right," Crater muttered, "later."

Heero cursed silently, ending the message and hunkering down. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Riley peaking around the corner and gestured for her to make herself obvious.

The girl moved around the building as if she hadn't just been hiding there, and at the same time, Corringer moved from under the breezeway. Heero felt a moment of protective jealousy. He wanted to shout at Corringer not to look at the girl that way as Riley flashed the man an utterly coy grin and started to move past him.

The building doors closed.

"Hey, would a man be asking too much to share a cup of coffee?" Corringer offered, turning to look at her ass.

That wasn't _his_ ass to ogle, damn it.

"I can't right now," Riley sounded actually disappointed. "I'd love to, but…"

"How about a number, then? I can call you some time when you may not be so busy?"

"Wouldn't it be easier to give me _your_ number?" she returned sweetly.

"If you're gonna tell me no, then tell me no," Corringer protested at her. "Don't just brush me off."

Riley giggled, moving toward him with a pen and piece of paper. She scribbled on it quickly, then passed it to him. "My name is Riley," she added, pulling away. "I'm busy during week-days."

"Weekends are better anyway," Corringer agreed, studying the number before tucking it into his wallet. "I like your name…my name's Mat."

Riley made a giggling noise at him, then waved slightly and started under the breezeway area.

"Fuck me runnin'," Corringer muttered in a near whisper as he watched her. He turned then, and started for his car. Heero hunkered down even lower on the rooftop, watching the vehicle turn on…then sit there a few minutes. Finally, the car backed out and disappeared down the road.

"Yuy?" Riley's voice came from almost at his feet.

Heero jumped, turning to look down at the girl's head…it was barely visible above the edge of the roof area.

"What are you doing?"

"Jogging," Heero explained, then gestured for her to move aside and started sliding down. "You'll never believe what I just overheard."

"Crater confessed?"

"Not so much confessed as confided," Heero noted. "Stop following him. He's paranoid about it. I don't want to lose you," he jumped to the ground. "So keep your head down."

Before she could respond, Heero'd grabbed her by the hips and swung her off the low half-wall she'd been standing on. "Go tell Jor that our impacted friend has empathic abilities."

"Impacted friend?" she asked blankly.

"You're not supposed to ask me what I mean," Heero reminded her. "I'll tell you what you need to know and in return you're supposed to trust that we won't get you killed without good reason."

Riley stared at him in disbelief.

Heero shoved at her slightly. "Go, already."

The girl gave him another look, then turned and started down the breezeway as Heero shook his head.

Someday, they'd just obey.


	26. Weaving

**Weaving**

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Wufei wondered why he wasn't shocked about Corringer's role in all of the shit. He didn't really _know_ Mat. Trowa did somewhat, because his friends lived in the same apartment building as the guy, but none of them actually _knew_ the guy. Aside from the fact that Heero had never gotten along with him, the man was of no importance.

Of course, with the way Heero'd gone through kicking the ass of every person who annoyed him after giving up on finding Duo…well…it just made the fights he'd had with Corringer more pointless.

But shouldn't he be shocked? Wufei focused again. Corringer was one of the men who'd get the job done without letting personal opinions interfere. He was a good soldier, and firmly believed that his superiors knew what they were doing. That was the problem. Wufei could easily see the two sides of that coin. It wasn't hard to obey and get things done…and if it gave you a certain access to things you needed, well, Trowa'd managed to infiltrate several bases with that same logic.

The obvious is unremarkable.

"So…Corringer is in charge on at least some level," Jordan noted, tilting his head slightly. "Can I kill him?"

"No," Trowa and Quatre informed him in unison.

"Damn."

"You need to work on Danielle a bit more," Heero noted suddenly, moving closer to Jordan. "Crater was all weirded out by her…and you need to set the five of them up with the empath training."

"They aren't around me that much," Quatre protested, then blinked. "Oh…"

"But they are around you, which is the perfect cover…you and Pair both."

"Pear?" Quatre repeated, giving him a look. "He doesn't like being called a fruit."

"Good, I gave him an alternate of duo."

Quatre blinked.

"My point is that Paris is stronger than you are, right?" Jordan studied the blond a minute. "It took us a full year to figure you out," he indicated the group of them. "And there was no training going on then. Danielle or Riley have other empath friends…I forget which one said it right now."

"Tell her not to call him," Heero spoke up. "Or answer. She gave him her name and number."

"Yeah, her home number," Jordan made a slightly dismissive gesture that implied they'd spoke of the matter already. "I can get any training for them I want and no higher-ups will turn a hair. We either have to keep it all underground, or I have to have reasons. Personally, I prefer both."

"So they get trained," Quatre looked to the floor.

"It's not meant to be derogatory," Wufei reminded the blond quietly. "The training isn't because you're so different…it's actually the opposite. The empath phenomena is just now starting to explode. People are scared to associate with them. You comment about it to me all the time. The training is to explain what effect their emotions have on you."

"Not to deal with us?" Quatre retorted.

Wufei smirked. "Dealing with you, my dear, only has as much to do with your empathy as your attitude shoves it at us."

The blond grinned slightly and gave him a look.

"Besides which, taking the class exposes you to serious quietings. That was one thing I liked about it. I figured out how to emulate them to an extent by virtue of feeling it."

"It's because I've latched onto you," Quatre dismissed that, starting to sit up.

"I don't care _why_ I can figure out what quieting is doing," Wufei noted. "My point is that it helped me control my emotions."

"You don't _have_ emotions!" Quatre snapped, turning to look at him before amusement replaced his irritation.

Wufei grinned more. "Which is why I'm having depression issues?"

"Who's gonna play swap with me first?" Jordan ventured when silence followed the comment. The man looked between his comrades expectantly. "My training thus-far has been directly with espionage and observation in general. I can't teach the gun-care or that for shit, so that'll go to Tro and Heero…but…"

"What about me?" Wufei protested, blinking at him.

"Well, I'd imagine you'd give them the rudiments of swordsmanship and hand-to-hand."

"I know hand-to-hand," Heero protested.

"So do we all," Jor focused on his friend and shook his head. "You realize the slight difference between each of us, right? We all know the same things, but teaching it and making it work isn't entirely in our ranges. Fei had years of martial-arts training…his entire life, I'd imagine…when he wasn't buried in a book…and Trowa is mech from head to toe…and everything in between and inside out. I have the chameleon's charm, Quatre has the emotional bracket, and you're…tech. Not only that but hand-weaponry."

"I was gonna note that, actually," Trowa sounded slightly amused. "I might be able to reassemble a gun in my sleep…"

"Which you'd better never do again," Wufei agreed.

"…but I just _do_ it."

Heero grinned as Jordan blinked. "We've had an interesting five years, divinity. It's too bad you missed out."

"Yeah," Jordan's eyes strayed toward his house. "But I think it'd be worse if I'd experienced it."

"You wouldn't know she exists," Quatre reminded him. "It wouldn't mean anything."

Jordan focused on Quatre a moment, then looked around to the others. "Isn't that worse?"

"I guess," the blond conceded after thinking about it.

"Where's Xane?" Heero asked, looking between them again. He had a strong suspicion that if he noted the threat to the boy, Jordan would go out and make short work of Corringer's worthless life.

"He's with his boy," Jor muttered, looking to his watch, "his girl, or the canteen for breakfast."

The group all focused on him for that one.

Jordan snickered. "Xane may be a bit naïve in a general fashion, but I'm fairly sure he never has to sleep alone."

"I knew there was a reason the two of them got on so well," Tro noted to Wufei.

The dark look Wufei returned reminded the pilots that the guy wasn't having any luck with his own companionship…for whatever reason.

"I'm gonna go get a bagel," Heero decided, hoping Xane would be there. "We should all do the swap, so before today is over y'all need to schedule with me when you'll drop your seconds off."

"All right," Tro, Quatre, and Fei agreed in unison. It sounded awfully like '_Sir_'.

Jordan blinked.

"Well?" Heero demanded, raising his eyebrows slightly at his friend.

"All right," Jor agreed. "I'll have to go meet with Mouthy though."

"If he's at the canteen," Heero muttered, starting for the door to the meeting room, "then I'll send him your way."

- -

"So he _is_ your superior?" Jordan was muttering to Quatre fifteen minutes later as the two left the room. "He seriously has that power over you?"

"He listens when he needs to, and the rest of us just go with it," Quatre explained, going on about the confrontations of power they'd all had with Heero early on.

Wufei and Trowa listened as the pair of voices faded out of earshot, and a moment later, met eyes.

"What's he really doing?" Wufei asked, looking back to Trowa. "He's hiding something from Jor."

"I couldn't figure out what, though," Trowa agreed. "And I don't understand why Jor himself didn't pick up on it."

"Or does he just trust that Heero knows what he's doing?"

"We'll have to run it by him. It's something to do with Xane."

"I bet that's why he wants us to stop by his office today," Wufei noted, thinking the issue over. "For all that we listen to him, he doesn't really give us orders."

"Aside from no longer than two hours depression."

Wufei smirked at that. "I'm gonna take it as 'for my own good'," he made air-quotes, "and leave it at that."

Trowa grinned at him, considering it. "You think Corringer may have threatened Xane? That'd be one reason Heero wouldn't mention it to Jordan."

"At the same time," Wufei noted, "he may just want to get Xane to do some work for him without Jordan knowing about it."

"What kind of work would Jordan refuse him?"

"I dunno, it's just a thought. I have to go find Morgan," a smirk flashed across his face. "It's all well and good for our seconds to be the first swapped out, but I wonder if Heero actively realized what he was saying."

Trowa snickered. "At least he gets along with Doug."

"Doug is so insanely respectful that I swear he says _yes sir_ every time I look at him sidelong."

Trowa laughed more, looking to his watch. "I invited him to the asylum for dinner tonight…I should probably call and ask Chai if that's okay, huh?"

Wufei started laughing.

- -

Xane met Heero's eyes with mild exasperation as the man sat across from him in the booth. He'd just had an argument with his boyfriend, and seeing as the man had been accusing Xane of cheating, having Heero almost immediately take his spot would be used against him.

"What?" Heero asked, blinking.

"My boyfriend decided I'm sneaking around seeing people on him," Xane returned levelly. "Your appearance does not help my cause."

"Are you?"

"Yes, but he's not supposed to know about it."

Heero forced himself not to grin, then shook his head. "You work for Jordan and Jordan told you to obey me. This is a work thing, not a personal thing," he thought about that. "Actually, it's both…and I'll buy your breakfast if you agree to listen to me without freaking out on some pride level."

Xane blinked, studying the man's face in astonishment.

"Hello, sir," the waitress muttered, moving up to smile at him as she noticed his name and rank-tag on the pocket of his white-pressed shirt. "What can I get you?"

"A bagel, toasted with cream cheese," Heero returned. "Coffee."

"Sounds an awfully lot like breakfast for one in the afternoon."

Heero smiled slightly at that, realizing it hadn't been all that long since they'd met for lunch…not that they'd eaten at that point. They'd sat around with a tray of fries and soft drinks…

"Commenting about a pride level," Xane reminded Heero, "does not bode-well somehow."

"You have been threatened," Heero explained easily, studying his face.

Xane blinked.

"I overheard a conversation of a confidential nature this morning, and the side-note was that if we pilots were getting too feisty they'd just nab you and make us docile."

The man looked away as he absorbed this.

"He stated specifically that they'd perform a few atrocities on you to make Jordan docile. There was a comment about the way you seek out human affection and how beating the fuck out of you would terrify you."

Xane started to open his mouth.

Heero held up a hand to silence him, studying his eyes seriously. "The term _atrocity_ implies anything from maiming to rape…or all of it. Whatever is planned for you is not good, and Jordan's reaction to this news would be explosive."

"What did he say?" Xane asked, blinking several more times.

Heero smiled when the waitress set his bagel in front of him with the dish of cream cheese and a cup of coffee. He waited until she'd wandered off to focus on Xane again and shake his head. "I'm not telling Jordan about this part of the conversation."

"Why not?" Xane demanded, rising slightly to the offense.

"Because he'd go blow Corringer's brains out on the spot," Heero retorted. "Do you not get that there's some coup being attempted? They're waiting out our immediate panic right now, but that doesn't mean anything is done. We don't know who's in charge, and we don't know what their entire aim is. I heard enough this morning to know they want Shifton as president…but their means of getting him there are hardly legal."

"But…Jordan should know, shouldn't he?" Xane demanded, his heart thudding hard in his chest.

"No, he should not," Heero used authority to say the words. He knew that the fact he was in his slacks and a white-pressed shirt made him a symbol of authority, especially to someone with no ambitions of rising in rank. "He is not to hear about this information until I deem the situation appropriate. Understand?"

"Sir," Xane said quickly, sitting up a bit…then thinking about that.

"Here's the pride part," Heero noted, spreading the cream cheese. "You are to run."

"Excuse me?"

"If the situation is compromised, you are to run. You will not be going out on single missions for this case. They don't know your name, but they know your face. You are being associated with Maxwell, and the fact that Maxwell is affectionate at all to you makes you the perfect hostage. Jordan will kill for any of you, but you specifically could create a massacre. You want that on your conscience? A bunch of hope-blind people who have been misled killed for your sake? If you feel like you are being _followed_ you call us immediately. You are to keep a phone on you at all times. I'll work up a tracking device that you can wear as jewelry. The fact that they planned to perform atrocities on you says very clearly that this is beyond your ken. The only reason you are being focused on is because we are fond of you, and you're not going to get raped by some factious dick-head because you're our friend. Do you understand?"

Xane stared at him wordlessly.

"Acknowledge, Featihl."

"Sir," Xane returned, looking away slightly.

"I don't want to offend your pride," Heero added in a softer voice, leaning forward in his seat. "I don't want to put you on some pedestal…but I don't want to lose you to some asshole like Matthew Corringer, all right? I'm not sure how much of what I just said will be considered offensive to you…so I apologize for that." He looked away. "If something happened to you, Jordan would blame himself…and it's his fault, after all. You're his crew-member. He's trained you. I lost him for five years, and if you get taken, if you die...I'll lose him in a worse way than I had. He's…he's unstable," Heero met Xane's eyes again. "It's not hard to tip his scales. Keep what we've said to yourself. I'll let the other three pilots know, but Maxwell is not to find out about this except from me directly."

"I…" Xane trailed off. "All right."

Heero looked down a moment.

"And you're not sleeping around on me?"

Heero and Xane both jumped as the pilot switched his position so his nametag and the little rank-tags became evident on the pocket of his shirt.

"Sir," the guy speaking stood straight, his eyes going wide. "My apologies, sir."

"So you're the man giving Featihl a hard time?" Heero asked him a bit languidly, sitting back. "Who do you think he's cheating on you with?"

"Maxwell," the word was barely a whisper.

Xane blinked at that one.

Heero burst out laughing in disbelief. "With _Maxwell_? My god, man, he's straighter'n a homophobe on kaseen!" He laughed more, sliding from the booth and looking to Xane. "Maxwell needs to talk with you before too much longer." He looked to the man who was still standing straight with burning cheeks. "About _training_," he added quietly.

The guy blinked.

Heero gathered up his bagel and pushed the coffee cup toward the younger male, then grabbed the two bills from the end of the table and started for the checkout.

"I…" the man started to Xane.

"You thought I was sleeping with _Maxwell_?" Xane demanded in disbelief. "Of _all_ the people…"

"He's always touching you," the guy sounded slightly perturbed.

"But…fucking him? Dude, he's my _superior_...that's like, illegal in forty-eight states…come on."

Heero grinned slightly, paying the woman and offering her his normal excessive tip.

"You look dashing today," she informed him cheerily. "Just don't get anything on your shirt."

Heero winked at her, starting for the door as he looked back to Xane in amusement. When the guy looked at him, he made the gesture that meant to hurry, and wondered at the confused look…before heading out of the building.

- -

Jordan laughed delightedly as Xane followed him through the building. "I have a boyfriend!" he shouted to the ceiling before laughing evilly again. "Another one, anyway…"

Xane was a bit embarrassed to see how absolutely delighted his superior was about the information, and it didn't help that the man was being very vocal about his amusement.

"Don't be like that," Jordan protested, backing him against the wall, then laughing again and bouncing up the hallway.

Was this another bit of information Jor didn't need to know?

"Come _on_," Jordan ordered him. "Sheesh…I think I'm expected to stay on a time-limit with him."

"Come again?" Xane asked, catching up with a confused look.

"You'll be training directly under Heero at some point," the man explained happily. "We're setting up that date before we go set up the trainings with Quatre, Tro, and Wufei."

"Oh…"

"And we'll have to set up your empath training, too. You ever fly an M.S.?"

"Uh…no…you have to have specific training for that since the force is small. Just the best of the best, and I was average."

"Oh, well, Tro will train you up. You'll be flying an M.S. before the year is out…and learning how to fix it."

"Why?"

"Because you need to know everything, especially since you're my second. If something happens to me, you'll be in charge. You'd realized that, hadn't you? You have actual rank now…I just have to go about filling out the forms and planning ceremonies and things."

"Can't we keep it quiet?" Xane asked a bit embarrassedly.

"I suppose…maybe just get your folks here?"

"My dad thinks I'm a deviant," Xane noted, looking away.

"All the more reason to show him you're kicking ass. You realize that the trainings we're setting up today will get you on the level of the people you consider your superiors now?" He smirked a bit. "If something goes down, you'll have the authority over _them_. They'll have to listen to you."

"That's scary."

"You're not just some throw-away decoy," Jordan noted to him seriously, frowning at him. "On top of that, you _are_ my second. Once I get the five of you set up, you'll be getting more people yourselves to train. When you were set up with me, it was initially because of your charisma, but you have an aptitude for this shit…and the five of us pilots _will_ be, in effect, making you exactly like us."

Xane stopped, not sure what to make of that.

"During the wars, we only had ourselves," Jordan added quietly, taking a step nearer to him. "We were completely self-sufficient entities and we didn't realize we'd have any allies…and the five of us pulled off some shit."

"Like Edwards?" Xane asked, having one of those moments where he realized the man in front of him had been the boy who'd terrified the entire military…or one of the boys.

Jordan looked away, remembering the incident and swallowing hard as his throat clenched.

"Jordan?" Xane muttered, stepping nearer to him as he considered his eyes. "What would you do if someone threatened my life?"

"Kill them," Jordan returned promptly.

Xane looked away.

"I'd kill everyone associated with them," Jor noted more to himself than to his friend. He started toward Heero's office again. "I'd do it brutally, and I'd do it publicly."

"Wouldn't that put you in prison?"

There was a hesitation before Jordan turned to look at him and shake his had. "No," he studied the guy a moment and grinned. "Why?"

Xane shook his head. "Just a comment Heero made when he told me to find you." He met Jor's eyes again and repeated the gesture Heero'd made at him. "What does that mean?"

"This?" Jordan repeated it, then smirked and did his own gesture of it.

"Oh!" Xane connected the half gesture to the full gesture Heero had done and sniggered.

"Why?"

"Because he was telling me that you were looking for me right after James had walked off from me. He freaked out and came back to accuse me again, then noticed Heero's rank."

"Ah yes, Yuy's rank," Jordan rolled his eyes as he pulled the man's office door open. "Can't forget that…even if you try."

Xane hesitated, looking through the door.

Heero, who had a phone to his ear, focused on them both in an imperial manner as Jordan physically pulled Xane into the room. He shut the door and moved to drop in one of the chairs across from Heero and sat back, crossing his ankles and resting his feet on the desk.

If Heero wanted to try and throw his rank around, Jordan would throw their relationship around. Jordan was not submissive to Heero. If anything, it was the opposite.

Heero pointed at Jordan, then his feet, with the pen he was holding.

Jordan smirked at him, moving long enough to take the man's coffee cup and drink from it.

"I've got to go," Heero noted into the phone. "I'll look over the file and get back to you tomorrow afternoon. Uh-huh…yeah, bye." He set the phone on the receiver and directed a look at Jordan that was a pointed question.

Jordan grinned at him. "If you try to get above yourself with me, I'll become the most _annoying_ thing you know."

…and Heero realized there was no point arguing with that.


	27. Playing With Time i

**Playing With Time 1**

"So," Jordan muttered as he moved into the room Terry Shifton was sitting in, "how are you?"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Maxwell," Shifton returned after taking the moment to be sure he was being addressed. "I'm very well, thank you."

"Talked to Jon lately?" Jordan demanded quietly.

Terry focused on him a moment in disbelief, then looked around the mostly empty room.

Jordan sat, resting his chin against his intertwined fingers. "I'm just all sorts of curious."

"I haven't seen Jon in months," Terry noted, frowning at Jordan. "I mean, I've seen him moving around base, but the two of us haven't talked."

"He's dead," Jordan lied easily.

Terry's face paled, and something like grief shone brightly as he stared at the man. "How?" he whispered.

Jordan considered the man a moment, then shook his head. "He's not. I wanted to see how you'd react."

And Terry's expression turned instantly to anger.

"You want to be a king, Terry?"

"Why would I want to be a king?" the man demanded in return. "You're not being funny."

"You'd like to be king of the world?"

"What the hell for?" Shifton returned a confused look. "You've upset me."

"Jon is alive in holding," Jordan returned easily. "He'll be let out soon…maybe the two of you should rekindle."

"So you can rip us apart again?" the acidic tone left no doubt to a layer of bitterness.

"I thought you'd frame him, and how wrong was I?" Jordan raised an eyebrow. "You may not have set up the assassin yourself, but it went through your accounts."

Terry frowned, looking down.

"We caught an assassin this morning by Breer's cell," Jordan lied.

Terry swallowed, staring at him uncertainly.

"Nothing came of it." Jordan considered the man, hoping Quatre was close enough to read him. "Do you want Jon dead?"

"No!" Terry half rose in his seat as he half-shouted the word. "I could never want him _dead_!"

Jordan considered him a moment, then rose from the chair he'd sat in uninvited. "Thanks for your time."

"Maxwell," the guy protested, still on his feet. "What's going on?"

"Your life is in danger," Jordan shrugged nonchalantly. "Breer's life is in danger."

"He's not…not dead?"

"No."

Terry fell silent a moment, then lowered himself into his seat again. "Thank you."

Jordan turned to meet his eyes very briefly, then turned and left the room.

Nothing would be decided until Quatre gave his opinion.

- -

The summer seemed interminably long. The July heat broke into the August bake as the pilots scampered around the base, occasionally putting on shows of baser-stupidity for Matthew Corringer or one of his cronies.

It was hard to function normally when they all knew how easy it would be to just throw Corringer in a cell and beat the shit out of him until he submitted. Unfortunately, there were conventions against such things, and a person couldn't be taken out of their country of origin without their permission.

It was a very hot mid-August day when Jordan showed up in the early hours to the main base building and sat on the bench he and the others had taken to meeting at. The others were still home, probably sleeping, but Jordan wasn't able to rest.

"You're up early," Corringer noted, moving down the breezeway toward him. "Escaping the heat, sir?"

Jordan turned to focus on the man a long moment. "I'm meeting with my second."

"Your second?" Corringer asked, blinking. "That cute little boy who runs around after you?"

"Xane is not a cute little boy," Jordan retorted, raising an eyebrow at the man.

"He's not very worldly, though," Corringer protested, moving forward some. "He seems really naïve to me."

Jordan's eyes narrowed as he noted the man had been paying _attention_.

"Just an observation," Corringer reassured him quickly, raising his hands in the air as if surrendering. "I don't mean anything."

The pilot rubbed slightly at his nose, then looked to the right as Xane's little piece of shit car slid into the parking lot.

"That thing looks about to fall apart," Corringer noted.

Jordan gave him a look and rose to his feet. He moved to the end of the parking space Xane was taking, and was greeted with a smile…that fell as he focused beside Jordan. The former pilot focused on Corringer, raising an eyebrow. "Can I help you in some way?" he demanded of the man. "Or are you just trying to provoke me?"

"Sorry!" Corringer protested, raising his arms again as he backed off. "I'm going, I'm going." He turned and started for the building with a pointed sort of strut.

"What's he doing out here?" Xane demanded somewhat uncertainly as he climbed from the car.

"I don't know, he just started talking to me," Jordan rolled his eyes. "What did you need?"

"My mom and little sister are dying for me to come home for a week long visit," Xane explained, moving to the end of his vehicle. "I don't have the leave-time saved up, but I know I'm under you and you can approve it."

"What's in it for me?" Jordan retorted in amusement.

"Anything?" Xane smirked at him, then laughed a bit. "How about we go with the eternal gratitude thing that usually gets your cooperation?"

Jordan laughed at that.

"If you do this for me, when you put me through those damn ceremonies you were mentioning, my mother will be all sorts of ecstatic to meet you and tell you exactly how much I've talked about you."

Jordan laughed again. "You talk about me?"

Xane gave him a look, moving up to the bench. "What do you say? A week of leave time?"

"I'll check the schedules," Jordan reassured him. "I don't think there's anything going on that I can't put off. So you mean, like, take off this Friday?"

"That would be perfect," Xane offered him the smile again. A motion caught his attention, and he looked down the breezeway to focus on Corringer. The man was standing at the door.

Jordan followed his gaze, and they both watched as the man languidly pulled the doors open, and disappeared inside.

A shiver crept down Xane's spine, and he turned his attention back to his superior. He wasn't sure if it was just him, or if the man's aire had really been self-satisfied…all he knew is that casual strut through the door had seemed threatening.

"He's such a fuckin' freak," Jordan muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Has Raul got back yet?"

Raul had gone into the city to see how close he could get to Crater, since Judas and Danielle had both been spotted by the man. Raul had been armed with the empath training before heading out on his first personal mission.

"I'm expecting him any time now. That was why I suggested you come in so early."

Xane nodded, moving to sit closer to his superior when the man sat on the bench. He leaned forward, staring at the cement as Heero's commentaries on atrocities came to his mind.

"What's the matter?" Jor muttered, rubbing his back slightly.

"Tired, I guess," Xane lied, hoping the man would let it lie. For the month, month and a half since Heero had first informed Xane he was a target, there had never been a situation where the information seemed prominent. To suddenly be met with the man standing directly next to Jordan had been unnerving in its own rights.

"Go back to bed," Jordan muttered, pushing slightly at his back. "I don't need you here until ten or so."

Xane offered him another slight smile and rose to his feet before kicking at the man's foot. "Thanks…I'm glad I got dropped in your lap."

Jordan winked, watching him move to his car as he sat back again to wait more.

- -

"He called him Xane," Corringer noted to Eastland as they sat in the little officer's box. "He came to beg time off."

"Maxwell _would_ be his superior," Duty returned, studying the guy. "Why do you ask after him?"

"I've just seen him tailing Maxwell around and wanted to know what you knew about it…I mean, I've seen the guy with guys and chicks around the base…so is Jordan cheating on _his_ girl?"

Eastland found that an odd observation. "No…Featihl is his second…for whatever his swat team does. You seem awfully interested in the runt."

Matthew shrugged slightly. "I saw Maxwell this morning and he was waiting for the guy."

"You talked to him? And he didn't rip you a new asshole?"

"I was being polite, come on…"

Eastland laughed. "I imagine you got one of those 'what the crap' looks from him, didn't you?"

"Shit, for a minute I was sweatin' like a two dollar whore in Sunday church."

Eastland laughed again, harder.

"Featihl, huh? You know anything about him?"

"He's bisexual," Duty shrugged. "Got himself about three boyfriends and three girlfriends at any given time…Maxwell's second. I dunno…just about as average player as you can get."

Corringer grinned at that.

"You interested? I'm sure he'd take you to bed for the night…but I somehow don't think you'd hold his attention long."

"Shit, I'm quite fine, thank you." Corringer rolled his eyes, then sighed. "I'm expected. I have to go."

"All right," Eastland agreed. "All's well that ends well, huh?"

The comment seemed amazingly suiting to Corringer, and he turned a true smile onto the man. "Amen to that."

Eastland laughed and raised his hand like he was toasting with a bottle. "Cheers!"

- -

"He was asking about him on _Wednesday_? And you're jus telling me now?" Heero demanded into his cell. "Shit, Duty…these things are supposed to be _prompt_."

"Sorry," Eastland muttered. "I didn't realize it was an issue."

"So what was he asking?" Heero demanded in a half-whisper, looking down the breezeway to where Jordan had his crew around him and they were in the middle of making gaudy jokes to Daneille's embarrassment. Wufei was sitting on the low half-wall and watching with amusement as Quatre rolled his eyes, looking away. Jordan was obviously enjoying putting the little princess through the torment, and Trowa was tapping his lip with one finger.

"Nothing too specific, seemed more like a date work-up," Eastland sounded like he'd shrugged. "It wasn't anything too…I dunno…"

"His name, though, huh?"

"Yeah…was I not supposed to tell him that?"

"Probably wasn't the best idea, but hey…it's done now. Featihl is leaving tonight for his parent's place. Do me a super huge favor and stop anyone who tries to follow him."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Eastland sounded a bit put-out. "I have to have reasons for these things, Yuy."

"Make something _up_," Heero snapped. "I'll join you in the booth when Xane's about to take off and bring some Amber, all right? I'll help you stop anyone and you can just claim that you got the list of people who can't leave wrong, all right? Big accident."

"But _why_?" Eastland demanded irritably.

Heero moved further away from the group as Wufei burst out laughing and moved forward to save poor Danielle from her abuse. "Because I heard someone saying they wanted to perform some atrocities on him."

That met silence.

"They specifically said atrocity, and that leaves me in doubt to him making it through it fine."

"Can't you arrest them?"

"It'd be my word against theirs and that's just messy. Jordan can't even pull that one off anymore…come on, Eastland. I brought Xane down there with me before, you know what I mean…he might be perfect for what Jor's doing, but…"

"I'll kill anyone who tries to follow him," Eastland reassured him quietly. "No one has the _right_ to make that kind of threat against anyone."

"Thank you," Heero sighed in mild relief. "I think I'll put one of my men to tailing him just in case, though. There are other cells out in the city."

"I'll let that happen, sir," Eastland agreed. "Is this all Corringer's doing?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that information."

"He disappeared for a while when Baits disappeared, you realize that don't you? And he kept taking off when Beedus was out there…and before the attack on Marquise. He was all shocked and upset when I told him Marquise wasn't dead…and the next day Piet turned up dead."

Heero swallowed, though he and his comrades had independently verified Corringer's leave time in comparison to the various attacks on the various leaders.

"Why aren't you arresting him?" Eastland asked in a half hiss. "Why is he free to do this?"

"Because we're trying to track down all of his cohorts. It's all well and good to practice cutting off the snake's head, but that doesn't mean it's not a hydra."

"I see," Eastland went silent a moment. "If anything happens to that poor boy, I will hold you personally responsible."

Heero found that there was nothing he could say to that, and he closed his phone.

"You're just as bad as they are!" Danielle was protesting cutely to Wufei. "Even worse!"

Wufei started laughing.

- -

"Hey, Yuy!" Eastland greeted the man happily as he walked up to the booth. "We've got us a party!" he laughed, though there was a wry twist to the sound.

Heero moved up to the door with his case of Amber and met eyes with Corringer. He smiled at the man's consternation. "We should both have one of these so Duty has to call to get us removed," he noted in amusement, moving to set the case on the table.

"You know more about Featihl than me, sir," Eastland noted with that same hard edge to his voice. "Corringer seems real interested-like in him."

"He's taken…several times over," Heero noted, studying the guy in amusement. "I hadn't realized you were the type." He twisted his drink open to smirk at the man. "But then what does anyone know about anyone else, huh?"

Corringer laughed, then looked to the case and frowned. "You can afford this shit?"

"I have an officer's salary," Heero reminded him. "Plus several years worth of savings. I'm not hurtin' for anything."

"All you rich assholes can kiss my ass," Corringer noted.

Heero laughed delightedly at that as a car moved up to the blockade.

"Yuy!" Xane hopped out of his car and bounced toward them before noting Corringer and hesitating.

"Xane!" Heero returned, moving out to sweep the guy into a hug. "We're watching him," he whispered.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" Xane demanded, indicating the drink.

"My god, it is," Heero stared at the offending bottle a moment in consternation…before downing it in one pull. "There. All gone now."

Xane laughed at that. "Don't let Jor get killed while I'm gone. I'll be put out with you if he's not here to clear my leave when I get back."

Heero laughed, smacking the guy in the ass as he started back for the guard-shack and Eastland let the boy out. He smirked at Corringer. "I like the boy…one of the ones I'm serious about."

"I didn't think _you_ were the type, sir," Corringer noted.

The former pilot smirked, studying the guy. "You wouldn't believe what I've done and what I'm willing to do."

The half implied threat of the comment was not lost on the man.

"I'm getting out of here," Corringer noted to Eastland, rising to his feet.

"Ah, but the fun's just starting," Heero muttered, following the man to the door and leaning against the jamb. "You back into my car, fucker, and it'll just give me another reason to kill you."

"Fuck you…sir," Corringer slid into his own vehicle and backed out with a squeal of tires.

Heero toasted after him as he gunned his piece of shit's engine and darted back into the base area.

The car of Heero's second, Mario, slid around the corner. He waved slightly at Heero as Eastland studied the man, rolling down the window.

"He turned left, he'll be hitting the speed zone soon," Heero noted. "Keep him in sight and stay on him while he's there."

"Sir," Mario muttered as Eastland hesitantly hit the button.

"Kill for him, Mario," Heero called. "He's the same to Jordan you are to me."

"The blood's not on my hands," Mario noted, starting to slide from the gate, then gunned his own engine.

"I don't understand," Eastland muttered as the gate clicked shut again. "Why are you sending your second after him? Isn't he worth about as much?"

"For all that they both could probably get out on their own, Xane is considerably less worldly. He'd be able to pull of some self-defense, but I don't know what his stance on killing is. Mario was given a mission, and he'd die for that. He knows I need him more, too…he's a lot like me. There's a time to live and a time to die."

"And your god will let you know such times?"

"My sun," Heero noted, an image of an angel with black wings entering his mind. The angel was holding a scythe that looked remarkably like the one Deathscythe Hell had carried…but the face was obscured…loose black robes…

Sometimes he wondered where he came up with the shit.

A car pulled up to the gate, looking rushed. The man waved slightly to Eastland, and Duty frowned, thinking. He turned and pulled up a list of names, then printed them out.

"What's wrong?" the guy demanded, looking irritable.

"I could have sworn your name was on the list," Duty shrugged a bit. "Just a second."

"My superior told me to go," the man snapped. "Take it up with him."

"Which one?" Heero asked sweetly. "Just take a deep breath. Blame it on Eastland if they try to get on you about it."

"I have to _go_," the man snapped.

Heero straightened, raising an eyebrow as he shifted so his name and rank tag was more obvious.

The man sighed, looking away.

"No, I think you forgot something," Heero noted, moving from the building.

"I'm sorry, sir," the guy muttered.

"You'd do well to remember your place, soldier," Heero noted. "The dance of your superiors plays out where you can't see it, and some little mess-up like a possible name on a list…"

"You're on the list, Reagit," Eastland muttered, moving to the door and looking at a sheet of paper. "I can't let you leave."

"I _told_ you…"

"Where's your note? Why haven't I been called?"

The guy stared at him.

"I can't let you out without someone's permission," Eastland pressed. "So back up and get out of my lanes or I'll call security."

The man started cursing and backed up, turning back toward base and squealing his tires as he disappeared.

"Let's hope that was all," Heero muttered, crossing his arms as he moved back toward Eastland.

"Get out of uniform before you drink more, Yuy," Eastland retorted, setting the sheet of paper down on the windowsill. "It's one thing for Xane to see you, but Corringer could raise hell."

- -

"Yeah, the drive was fine," Xane reassured Jordan. "I just wanted to call and let you lot know I got here safely."

"So why did you call Heero's cell?" Jordan asked curiously. "Is mine off?" he pulled his out and opened it experimentally.

It was fine…

That was the question Xane was hoping Jor wouldn't ask. "I figured I'd call you at your house when you were off duty so we could use a vid," he adlibbed, remembering to keep the lie simple. "This is running up my bill and we talk."

"Ah," Jordan accepted that. "All right, I'll let you go."

"Um…why do you have Yuy's cell?" Xane asked.

"We told you we filch it off him from time to time, right?" Jordan grinned a bit. "When there's nothing pressing going on we just steal it and fuck with his friends."

"Ah," Xane nodded a bit. "All right. I'll let you go for now, but I'll call your vid this evening?"

"All right, later," Jordan waited for the line to go dead before clearing the timer. He folded the thing and put it back in his pocket.

"Where the _hell_ is Quatre?" Heero demanded, moving up to Jordan. "Tro took my damn phone again and said he'd palmed it to Quatre."

Jordan gestured and Heero made an irritated noise, starting away.

"Oh, hey," Jordan added after a moment. "Mouthy called, said he made it fine."

"That's good," Heero muttered, hesitating and wishing he had his phone. He nodded once more at Jordan and moved inside the building.

The phone started ringing again and Jordan raised it to read the caller I.D.. He considered the unfamiliar name a moment and opened the phone.

"Don't say anything," an unfamiliar male voice muttered quickly. "You'd better be at Sins tonight. I haven't seen you in a fucking month. That's bullshit, Chance. Not fair. Be there."

The line went dead and Jordan considered the phone a moment before looking after Heero…and grinned again.

He needed to talk to Chai.


	28. Playing With Time ii

**Playing With Time 2**

"Ack! Rape!" Quatre was laughing too hard as he dodged around tables and poles for the cry to be headed by any random passer-by.

"I hate to say it, Q," Tro muttered somewhat blandly, "but you can't rape the willing."

Quatre laughed evilly and dodged under a table, emerging on the other side and darting toward Paris.

"That's, actually, not very funny," Paris noted to Trowa with a small frown.

Tro considered the tall man a moment and shrugged. "He should be shouting fire. That'd get someone's attention."

"Give me my damn phone!" Heero ordered, jumping on top of another table to leap after the fleet-footed blond.

Jordan opened Heero's vibrating cell phone with interest, hoping it'd be the guy who'd ordered him to Sins. "Heyo?"

"Jordan?" Shin asked uncertainly. "Did you steal his phone again?"

"Only a little bit," Jordan reassured her.

Shin giggled, then sighed. "I need to talk to him…is there any chance?"

"Cash issues?"

She sighed. "Yeah…I'm screwed on a few bills."

"Hm," Jordan considered the likelihood of him escaping Heero when the man realized he was talking to his girlfriend not ten feet from him. "You realize I'm gonna get skinned alive here, right?"

Shin giggled. "I'll appreciate the sacrifice."

Jordan laughed, and it was at that point that a flash of silver at Jordan's waist caught Heero's eyes and he focused on the two phones.

Quatre stopped running, bending over and resting one hand on the bench of the table beside Paris as he both caught his breath and laughed harder.

"Um…love you babes…gotta fly…like the wind."

Shin giggled naughtily and Jordan threw the phone at Heero…before turning and flat-running toward his car.

"I'm gonna kick your ass, Maxwell!" Heero informed him, giving chase.

Jordan felt a moment of happy thrill at the old game…he hadn't been chased in ages. The others had died laughing again as well, and Jordan darted around his car, bracing himself against the trunk as he met Heero's eyes.

Heero's tone may have been angry and threatening, but his eyes were sparkling. "I'm gonna beat you down…"

"Maybe you should talk to Shin first," Jor suggested, feinting slightly.

"What?" Heero asked, stopping the game instantly to look at his phone, then raise it to his ear. "Oh, god, baby…sorry…"

Jordan could hear her laughing.

- -

"Danielle?" Jordan asked blankly, focusing on the slight girl in amazement. She was wearing a small dress that fell to her knees. Her hair was pulled up in a fashion that suggested care, and her make-up was…artfully pretty. Not too thick, but just enough of shading to accentuate her natural appeal.

"Hi, Jordan," she returned, moving around him to offer her hands to Wufei. "Hi, Fei."

"You look lovely," Wufei muttered, leaning in to kiss her cheek and take her hand as he smiled at her. "I'm glad you came."

Jordan stared at them in disbelief.

"No wonder you've been smiling for the last hour," Trowa muttered, smiling at the girl himself as he held Deb's hand. "You do look very good, Miss Duvall."

"Thank you, Monsieur Barton," she smiled at him, then smiled at Chai. "White makes you look evil."

Chai's amethyst eyes flashed her own amusement as she looked down to the white top that showed some of her midriff, then the flowing white pants over her white sandals. "You can't hide your true nature, I guess…"

Danielle giggled.

"I'm surrounded by angels," Heero noted, looking the three neatly dressed women over, "And all I get is a pair of…" he gestured toward Quatre and Paris.

Quatre smacked him.

Danielle giggled more, moving over to kiss both the empaths on their cheeks. "I'm glad to see you come."

"Chance!"

Heero turned toward the street with an expression of dawning amusement on his face.

"When I said for you to come, I didn't think you'd bring anyone."

"What?" Heero asked blankly.

"When I called earlier…shit, I don't think your little kitties will be so hot on it."

Jordan started to snigger.

Heero stared at this other friend a moment, then shook his head and turned. "This is Jordan, Quatre, Trowa, and Wufei. The ladies are Deb, Chai, and Danielle…this is Paris. Guys, this is Chaz."

"He's mine!" Trowa announced delightedly, throwing himself at Heero's arm as he recognized the name of the man he'd fucked with so many months earlier. "You can't have him!"

Wufei, Quatre, and Paris died laughing as Jordan realized a bit belatedly what they were going on about.

"Um…" Chaz blinked at Trowa, then at Deb as the girl snickered.

"Well, on that note," Heero muttered, brushing Tro off slightly and pulling Paris toward him, "this is the boyfriend you talked to."

Paris blushed slightly, looking away.

"That was just shit, right?" Chaz asked uncertainly. "A bunch of fuck around shit?"

"Yeah, it was," Heero agreed, grinning slightly at Paris. "My dramatic friend here," he indicated Trowa, "just wanted to let you know who was who. What do you mean? You didn't call me today."

"Yeah…I…" Chaz frowned, looking the group over in confusion.

Jordan raised his hand, "Yeah, the whole 'don't say anything' threw me off."

Chaz's expression started to cherry.

"What?" Heero demanded, focusing on him. "What do you…"

"I forgot to mention that in talking everyone to come here tonight," Jordan smiled sweetly, indicating the front of the building. "My bad. Sorry."

Chaz opened his mouth as he looked to Jordan, and just as obviously decided not to say what he was thinking. He looked back to Heero, starting to shake his head and back off.

"Hey," Heero muttered, stepping forward.

"He's embarrassed," Quatre warned, studying the man.

"What?" Chaz demanded blankly, focusing on him uncertainly.

"I figured we could hit the buffet," Jordan noted before the guy could get too far, "then head for a few drinks, and Chance could excuse himself a bit and join us later."

Heero turned to look at him, blinking.

"So get out of here," Jordan ordered Heero pointedly. "There was a reason we all have dates and I didn't warn you."

Heero looked around the group, then focused on Paris and Quatre with a slight smirk.

"Don't say it," Quatre cut him off before he could speak. "For Jordan's sake…don't say it…"

"I think that's a 'god's sake,'" Tro noted to Deb.

The woman snickered again.

"Go," Jordan added, maneuvering Heero toward the front doors. "Meet us in the bar section in two hours."

"But…" Heero hesitated, but Wufei was taking some sort of pity for the poor friend standing not far away. The Chinese male moved up behind the guy and pushed him past Heero toward the front doors. Heero met his eyes a moment, then started moving after him, pointing at Jordan with a lightly veiled threat.

Jordan blew him a kiss and winked as he gave the guy another look.

"There was a reason you were saying me and you should take him out, wasn't there?" Chai muttered in amusement to her boyfriend. "And a reason you initially protested asking everyone to come."

"You sick bastard," Danielle muttered, reclaiming Wufei's arm with a happy smile on her face as she studied her superior.

Jordan started laughing.

- -

The music was pounding as Jordan danced with Chai…and it seemed very right. It'd been months since they'd had a real night out together, and her jokes and attempts to pull him to the back room had reminded the re-instated soldier that she wasn't nearly so innocent as he'd started thinking of her.

The white of her clothing, as Danielle had noted, gave the girl a surreal look as her body moved and swayed to the pounding beat. It amused Jordan that he'd forgotten how badly he'd wanted her in Angels…watching her move, though…it _had_ been a long five years, hadn't it?

A moment of distraction caused Jordan to turn his head as Chai started laughing, and suddenly he was face to face with Heero, who broke their dance as Wufei took Jordan's spot.

Jordan snorted, pulling away a healthy half-inch from his friend's body as Heero allowed his buzz to sink him into the music, dropping his head back with closed eyes.

Chai flashed Jordan a naughty smirk, focusing on Wufei, who had his mouth hovering over her skin. She made a slapping sort of gesture that he turned with…to see Danielle with an impishly reprimanding expression…and promptly started dancing with her. Jor's girlfriend moved up behind him and leaned to his ear, "Adonis never came through on his promises, now did he?"

Heero leaned forward to hear what she was saying, and Chai gave him a coy look before turning and sauntering off the dance floor with her hands in the air, holding her hair from her neck.

"What did she say?" Heero asked blankly.

Jordan rolled his eyes and shook his head…it didn't do to forget that Chai was Chai through and through.

"Oh…" Heero considered that a moment, but the pounding beat distracted him…and he decided he didn't need to think.

- -

"Sorry about Chaz," Jordan muttered quietly in Heero's ear as the pilot lay half-passed out on his lap. "I meant to warn you about that."

"'s fine," Heero muttered, then his expression changed to uncomfortable. "I'm going to puke, you realize that don't you?"

"I may note again that this is not my car," Jordan reassured him in amusement.

"How's Fei doing?"

"I don't know how moral he is," Jordan returned, looking through the back windshield of Heero's SUV to his own little car.

Quatre's meds kept him from drinking, so he had control of the beast with a fairly drunk Paris in the passenger's seat. Heero was draped across the back seat of his thing and Chai was sitting with Deb in the middle seat. Trowa'd stopped drinking not long into their night, so he had control of Jordan's car…which also contained Wufei and Danielle in the back seat doing god-knows-what.

"I'd imagine he'll get lucky, though," Jor was still studying his own vehicle.

"Mm, not if he's serious about her."

"They're pretty drunk, though…"

"Wufei likes a quick bang, but he's also been lonely. I think he's interested in her for a long term, and that means he'll do things at a more measured pace…I mean, shit, she's had his attention since just after the fourth."

"So I'm blind?"

"No, he's subtle. He made sure they got along as friends before moving it forward. If you haven't watched him work before you don't really notice it until he does something like inviting her on a date out of seemingly nowhere."

"I take it you're not going to puke now?"

"No, I'm going to…but you reminded me that this is my own car," he turned his head and bit Jordan's thigh.

Jordan yelped, but couldn't exactly go anywhere as Paris started laughing and Chai gave him a look. "He bit me!"

Heero bit again, being sure it was hard enough to leave a bruise, then settled down again.

"You fucker," Jordan grumbled, trying to relax the tense from the throbbing area.

"Kinky," Deb noted to Chai, who started laughing happily.

"Shit, he's sated," Paris noted, looking around the edge of his seat to the group of them.

"Hey, Q?" Heero muttered, sitting up somewhat quickly.

"Need me to pull over?"

"Uh…yeah."

Quatre snorted, turning off the road as Deb dodged from the vehicle before it stopped…and Heero launched out the door.

"Sorry, pussycat," Jordan muttered, leaning forward to nip at Chai's earlobe. "It seems Adonis isn't up to any kind of performance."

Chai laughed evilly.

"I did not just hear that," Quatre muttered, looking in the review mirror at the pair of smirking faces.

"He'd have come up with some other reason anyway," Chai reassured the blond with a smirk. "I don't know why, but Jor just _doesn't_ see what's so hot about you lot."

Jordan rolled his eyes as Quatre turned to blink at her properly.

"Its nights like this when I miss the enclave," Paris muttered, studying her over before looking back to Quatre. "How did you live with four guys?"

"First, it was three. Second, Heero's avenues have never been on the base. Third, there's a focus they get. Chai, unfortunately, is quite drunk and has the idea of a threesome in her brain…and all she has to do is get Jordan to agree."

Jordan snickered. "He found you out, didn't he?"

Chai laughed, running her hands through his hair before kissing at his chin.

"Shit," Quatre muttered, moving to sit forward with a sigh. "I really want to get drunk right now."

"Fuck your meds, then," Jordan muttered. "You're a big boy. Tell your therapist you want to see if your body has adjusted without the alteration or some shit. Use the…mm…use the Winner charm, blondie. You never had a hard time getting your own way before."

Heero stopped in the door to the car to study how very intent Chai was on her boyfriend, then snorted and climbed into the back seat as Deb climbed in and studied the pair beside her with interest.

Quatre sighed, looking to Paris. "Want me to drop you off at the M building?"

- -

The week without Xane passed quietly, and somewhat boringly. Aside from Wufei showing up at Jordan's meetings with single daisies or chocolate bars almost daily, nothing of interest was going on.

"Is it just me, or do we have less fun without Mouthy?" Raul muttered, studying the petals Danielle was picking off one by one from her flower.

"I dunno, I think Danielle's fine with it."

She giggled, looking up to him before looking around at Riley with a grin. The two women smirked at each other as Danielle set the last petal on the pile and went to clean it up.

"You are not doing the 'he loves me not', thing, are you?" Jordan asked her blankly, staring at her.

Danielle started giggling.

"Quite the suitor you've got there," Judas noted. "Interesting sort of beau."

The girl had kept out one of the petals and was running her fingers around it. "When we went out, I would have slept with him."

"He didn't?" Raul was slightly disbelieving.

"I'll have you know," Jordan muttered, giving the guy a look, "Wufei happens to have morals."

"I've seen him do one night stands," Raul retorted.

"So you're offended that he's taking a real route with Danielle?"

Raul blinked at that, then looked to Judas, who shrugged.

"I think he's sweet," Riley announced somewhat primly.

"I think he's a pain in my ass," Jor noted, studying the girl's distracted state. "But I have that luxury since I've known him since I was fifteen."

"You disapprove?" Danielle asked, her happiness instantly falling.

"Oh no, you've put him in a wonderful mood of late. You're a good woman, he's a good guy…but it's kinda hard to get anything done with you dreaming of him. If you hadn't noticed, you just have to grin to distract Riley, and the guys aren't a whole lot better."

She grinned at that.

Jordan sighed, gathering up the papers he'd been looking at. It was lists of trainings to be checked off before he'd give them their ranks. He was planning to go about it in a more proper way than him just deciding that was the end result. Giving them goal sheets helped them focus on getting it done.

"Danielle," he noted, looking to the calendar, "you've been around my place and my empaths, so I want you to start the training on…Monday."

"I did okay this weekend, didn't I?" she asked, frowning slightly. "I saw they were both upset."

"That was because Chai really wanted to drag me into a threesome and wasn't particularly choosey about who the third should be, aside from one of my friends of a male nature."

"That's fucked up," Judas muttered, looking to the others as Riley laughed evilly.

"You're tellin' _me_," Jordan agreed, rolling his eyes. "It didn't help that the night they first showed up in my bar, Heero was suggesting…some…ideas…that were entertaining enough on the mouth level, but I've never been able to verify if he meant it or not."

Judas and Raul smirked at each other.

"Come on, let's go get some lunch." Jordan realized that he'd hinted to Wufei they'd be there and hoped the man had another trinket for Danielle. She was incredibly happy and extremely malleable. He had a feeling that if he'd told her to start the course Monday when she wasn't dreaming of one of his best friends, she might have found a reason to argue. He liked that she'd use her brain and not accept everything he said at face value, but this way they could at least get things done before she got headstrong again.

"You're conniving again, aren't you?" Riley purred, moving up to grab his arm. They'd moved down to the cars as the girl considered asking. "You kept checking your watch and noted lunch-time a little too casually."

He kissed her nose. "Get in your car and meet us at the canteen. Whether or not I've got something going on, I won't tell you. Observe, and you might figure it out."

Riley smiled at him, then turned to bounce to her car.

- -

Xane was tired as he waved a salutation to the gate-guy, still startled that it wasn't Eastland. He knew somewhere that Duty couldn't _always_ be on duty, but he couldn't remember a time in the recent years where he'd entered the base and hadn't seen the guy in the room.

He drove slowly up the road, then decided to check Jordan's first. He felt like he was obligated to let Heero know almost as immediately that he'd returned safely, if only because Heero had freaked out on him before he'd left…but he didn't want to chance calling the guy's cell when he wasn't sure who was up or where.

It was now Sunday…four and a half hours after Sunday started. He'd left his house later in the evening than normal, but he'd had a vague sense he'd been followed and wanted to drive the long stretches to see when there weren't too many cars. When he'd seen that it was a guy named Mario from Heero's team, he'd panicked a moment and pulled into a gas-station…where Mario had informed him that he was sent along to help in any…complicated situations, but he hadn't wanted to make himself a burden to the other.

Xane waved out the window at the turn off toward Jordan's house as Mario waved back and drove in his own direction. It took minutes after that for the man to get to his superior's house, and with the all the cars there, he had a feeling he'd made the right choice. He tried to make out the two figures on the front porch as he moved toward the door, frowning slightly.

"What the hell…" Wufei's voice was vaguely irritated.

"What are you doing…Danielle?" Xane stared at his teammate in disbelief as she smiled evilly at him.

"Hey, Mouthy," she muttered, moving herself from the door. "We missed you."

He grinned at her, then even more at Wufei as he moved by them. The man's expression was irritated enough that Xane went ahead and snapped his teeth near the other's ear. It was something he'd do with the friends he'd had for ages, and suppressing the impulse had made several instances a little awkward. Granted, he'd also visited with most of them while at his mother's place, so…maybe that was why. He nuzzled briefly at Danielle's ear, then slid into the house.

"What…was that?" Wufei was confused as Xane shut the door behind himself.

"Xane!" Jordan bounced from where he'd been sitting on his couch to launch himself across the room to his friend…which slammed them to the wall before the scent of alcohol explained the reaction's exuberance.

"Hey, Jor," Xane returned, then blinked several times as his ear was nibbled at.

Jon snickered from where he was sitting not far from Heero. "I suppose someone should note that he likes fucking with bisexuals."

"Your phrasing is suspect," another male voice noted. It was an unfamiliar voice.

"For all that we'd have fun," a third voice muttered.

"Jordan, let the poor boy go before he hurts himself," Heero reprimanded…in a tone that suggested he was rather drunk. His pattern of speech was off. "You alive back there, Mouthy?"

"Mouthy?" one of the unfamiliars asked as Jordan's weight shifted unsteadily against his second. "That mean what I think it does?"

Xane looked around Jordan to study the pair of men uncertainly, then realized his superior was no longer teasing him. He steadied his friend with some amusement as he pulled back to study the slightly unfocused eyes. When the guy wasn't about to pass out, or whatever his problem was, Xane carefully detached him and shifted him toward the back of the couch so he could have a seat.

"We started drinking at seven," Jordan explained. "I wasn't expecting you back until tomorrow."

"I…came home early," Xane explained, studying him before looking pointedly to Heero.

The former pilot smiled innocently at him.

"Come on, now, we need to know why you're called 'mouthy'," the one who'd spoke before pressed.

Xane looked to them again, realizing that he recognized them from around the base and realized they were people he'd seen with the pilots in the past…the one looked like…Doll? Wasn't that his name?

"Are you teasing the poor boy?" Chai demanded, moving around from the kitchen with drinks in her hands. "Mouthy, baby," she added, giving him a cup, "those two are insufferable predators," she indicated the pair of men he didn't know. "And you should recognize Breer. The three of them are…not picky?"

Xane grinned at her delicate seeming phrasing, then looked between the three men who were smirking at him.

"Don't let him fool you into thinking he's straight," Heero muttered, taking the second cup from the female. "He's got at least one boyfriend, and I've seen him with about five girls since we met."

"I'm going to need this, aren't I?" Xane muttered to Chai, indicating the cup.

Riley moved somewhat unsteadily down the hall from the back door, then beamed and turned again. "Mouthy's back!"

Xane considered correcting her usage of the name, but had got the impression that it was now his _name_. He looked to Chai and grinned. "I heard a story about a pretty girl before. She used to crush kaseen and spill it into drinks so she didn't go lonely at night."

That got a collectively evil snicker from the males sitting around the couch.

"You made it home alive?" Raul demanded as he and Judas moved from the back. A moment later, Quatre appeared with Paris in tow.

"It was a guy who used to crush kaseen into drinks," Trowa noted, moving from the kitchen himself with another pair of cups, "and he was doing it so he could feel wanted. I can understand how you got the sex mixed up…"

"It's easy to get sex mixed up," Logan noted to Heero.

Heero snickered.

"Who is this, now?" a red haired man asked, moving from the kitchen with yet another pair of cups.

"Doug, this is Mouthy."

"Interesting name you got yourself," the man noted, raising an eyebrow as he looked the man over. "You look tired."

"I just drove about five hours," the guy explained with a wary shrug before downing half his drink.

"Ooh, sorry," Chai muttered, indicating the cup, "I ground up the kaseen in that glass."

Jordan started laughing.


	29. Original Sin

**Original Sin**

Jon moved into the hall with his possessions and a mildly amazed expression as he met Jordan's eyes.

"Sorry you got stuck here for three months," Jordan muttered to his friend, following him toward the doors. He took the guy's bag from him and smiled slightly. "I'll talk to Duty about getting you a pass, huh? That way you can get in and out. I'm pretty sure we get a handful of'em…you just had best not bring any drugs."

Jon gave him a very disgusted look as the man's car pulled into the parking lot. "I'm just shocked that I can leave like this."

"Well," Jor shrugged slightly, "we've already had one murder on the base. It's obvious someone figured out how to fool our cameras. I already know that no one will dare touch you in Angels. I made my case this morning," Jordan lit a cigarette he'd filched from Wufei and winked slightly at his friend. "They're gonna send a guy with you, to make sure you're safe. I tried to get us assigned to it, but they've got us thrown out in sweeps all month, plus I have to train my crew. I'll visit on weekends when I can."

"I still think Lamb might be an issue," Jordan ventured with a slight smirk.

Jordan smirked back. "Funny, the thought had actually crossed my mind." He got a grin for that and exhaled. "I'll talk to Une."

"You're a true friend, Jordan…Duo…whatever the hell your name is."

"I have a name in every culture," Jordan noted with another smirk. "I have a different face in every culture; sometimes I'm male, sometimes I'm female…sometimes I'm neither and sometimes I'm both."

"I heard something a while back," Jon muttered, considering his memory for a moment, then met Jordan's eyes properly again. "What _is _the devil's due?"

The sound around them changed, and the dry dusty smell of summer suddenly shifted. Jordan watched the first sweep of fall rain, listening as the pattering of raindrops surrounded them. There was a flash and they both blinked…as thunder tore across the sky above them. The roar was loud, and deep enough to rattle glass. In the distance, a car alarm was set off…

"How appropriate," Jon noted as a warm wind ripped past them, looking to the sky.

"We should probably wait inside or something," Jordan noted.

"No," Jon returned, looking around. "I want to get home. My sister was freaking out that I'd been kept here this long."

"Remember what I told you before," Jordan reminded him as they started moving toward the car. "Keep your head low and your dealings on a minimal level."

"I know," Jon reassured him, smiling slightly. "I don't intend to be thrown in _prison_. This was bad enough," he gestured toward the base, though the courtrooms opened to the main-road, so they were only barely on the base. "I had Chai here, and this was bad enough."

"I'm not moving back to Angels," Jordan muttered, moving to the man's trunk as the guy popped it open with a push of a button. "If I come asking for work again, I'm either on a mission, or running. I'd appreciate it if you just assumed I was running."

"That's fine," Jon reassured him as he watched his friend throw the bag into the car. "I think you owe me something, though."

"Like what?" Jordan returned, raising an eyebrow. "Last I recall, you owe _me_ a couple grand." He tossed the cigarette into one of the forming rivulets of water.

"That's right, you got shot for me," Jon smiled, looking to his leg and shaking his head as he extended his hand. "I guess we _are_ even."

Jordan pulled him into a brief hug, meeting his eyes. "What were you going to ask me?"

Jon smirked. "Nothing. We're even."

There was another flash of lighting to their left, and they watched it dance in the sky before the almost immediate rumble of thunder.

"I guess I should get in the car," Jon muttered, pulling Jor in for another hug, then brushing his lips very slightly. "Take care of yourself, and take care of that girl of yours."

"I intend to," Jordan reassured him, following him around toward the driver's seat. "You have to remember, I took care of her since I met her."

"That's a good point," Jon muttered, sliding into the car and taking his keys from the waiting soldier. "I've got your cell, so it's not like this is a final parting, huh?"

"Yeah, you live about forty minutes away," Jor looked in the general direction of Angels as more lighting flashed.

"Sir, we need to get out of the open," the soldier muttered nervously, touching Jordan's arm.

Jordan nodded at him, then touched Jon's face and smiled at him.

Jon considered that a moment, looking down, then met his eyes. "You realize that Mouthy could be a target, don't you? The people you care about…if you start becoming too much a hassle for them."

The thought chilled Jordan to the bone.

"That boy is sweet," Jon added, still studying his friend.

"Sir," the solider persisted as thunder rumbled again.

Jordan nodded his approval, stepping back as his friend closed the door.

The rain thickened.

Jordan slammed the flat of his hand twice on the roof in parting as he moved back, and got a huge grin for it since it was something he'd do for readiness when he'd been playing bodyguard for the kingpin.

That already seemed a lifetime away.

The soldier jumped at another flash of lighting, then gave up on the superior and darted for the protection of the building.

Thunder rumbled again as Jordan watched Jon cross the parking lot, then pull out almost without stopping…and fly down the road. He didn't know if the man looked back, and he didn't know if he'd have anything to look back for…but Jordan knew that in some way he'd become Duo again.

Lightning danced not far off, and as the thunder nearly shook the ground around him, Jordan realized something.

He would never be Duo again…but he'd never stopped being the god of death. In a sense, he'd lost his tie to hell…because Angels was the most inappropriately named place that could have existed on the planet or on the colonies. He'd lost his immediate care for the place, but that didn't mean he'd stop sending people there.

Of course, for all that it was a small sinking boat, Jon's willingness to pay people who worked for him gave them a chance at a better life. He gave them a chance out of hell…so maybe the kingpin was savior? Maybe a man who sold the worst addictive drugs, the most disgusting poisons…who thrived on money and had no other drives but his own personal satisfaction…was a savior. That was the legend of gods, wasn't it? Selfish, self-centered…wanting worship, and giving favors.

Lightning flashed, and this time Jordan got a sense of danger from it as the thunder boomed. He turned, noting slightly that Jon's car was finally turning from the end stop sign. He moved toward the court building again to see Heero standing at the end of the stairs with his hands in his pockets, and started for him.

"You all right?" the Japanese man asked in a very quiet voice when they were close enough.

"I'm a god, Chance," Jordan returned with a slight smile. "I was born of no woman to no man, I coalesced out of nothingness of my will alone. I'm alive and powerful…"

"And wet," Heero cut him off, grinning slightly. "And very wet."

"Yes, and wet," Jordan agreed, plucking at his shirt. "Wet and cold."

Heero smirked at him.

Jordan turned to see Jon's car disappearing far distant along the road.

"Let's call _this_ your birthday," Heero suggested, starting across the parking lot toward their cars as the idea hit. "September first sounds a lot like a pagan holiday."

"If you say so," Jor muttered, digging his own keys from his pockets. "You ever decide on one for yourself?"

Heero stopped, turning to meet his friend's eyes, studying the bedraggled chunks of hair in some amusement…as more lightning flashed and more thunder rumbled. "You need a hair cut."

"Yes, I do," Jordan ran his fingers through his hair. "Where's Fei?"

"His team is meeting to discuss a retraining," Heero shrugged.

"You ever decide on a birthday for yourself?"

Heero stopped, turning to study him again and grin. "I was born of no woman to no man. I coalesced out of the void of my own volition. I'm alive and powerful. I choose no one day for my worship, but receive it every day."

Jordan snickered as they reached the spot to split for their own cars. "Which is why you haven't gotten laid in a week."

"Yes," Heero agreed, moving toward the front of his rig. "We really need to fix that."

"Royal plural doesn't work for gods," Jor stated easily, unlocking his doors. "And there's no way I could help get you laid."

"Oh, I dunno. Not only did you get me laid, but you made it so everyone was all right with it. Do it again." The man opened the door to his vehicle.

Jordan smirked at him, dropping into the seat. "That's hardly a prayer."

Heero smirked as he slid into his own car. "I'll think of something."

- -

"Okay," Corringer muttered as he moved along the breezeway with his hands crammed into his pockets. "This is getting ridiculous."

"Patience is a virtue," Crater reminded him. "I heard that Baits is heading back to his manor."

"Good, he'll be easier to access there."

"Marquise is heading back to his, too."

"Mm, that's exciting."

"You have something personal against the man, don't you?"

"He's just one of many fuckers I can't stand," Corringer shrugged. "What about Beedus?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

"Miss Elizabeth?"

"She was locked down in a Brazilian base. I haven't heard any more about her."

"Zerone?"

"I'm not even going to attempt the actual presidentials, Corringer. I'm not that stupid."

"We'll have to figure something out sooner than later," Corringer noted. "But that's not your worry. Send men after them."

"You didn't ask me what the bad news was," Crater noted, tilting his head very slightly.

"There's bad news here?" Corringer frowned slightly as the pair stopped.

"The Gundam pilots…they're all leaving. No one has been told where they're going, but the timing coincides nicely. Breer's gone, you realize that don't you?"

"I talked to Terry," Corringer agreed with a frown. "He left a week ago and they never got to talk, so he's upset about it. He's heading back to his manor, too."

Crater nodded slightly, hesitating as he thought.

"I have some shit to do," Corringer muttered. "Get our people going. I want them to find out what those damn pilots think they're doing."

"All right," Crater stopped. "I'll see you tonight, then."

Nothing else was said, and Heero watched Crater move quickly back toward his own car with interest as he and Jordan hunkered down on the rooftop. The pair exchanged a look as the car pulled out, then listened intently.

Matthew studied the empty breezeway behind himself a long moment before deciding he was just being paranoid. There was obviously no one in hearing range. He moved into the building, heading toward the lower halls.

"Shit," Jordan muttered as his foot slipped out on the wet tiles, sliding a few feet as he also scrambled for a handhold.

Heero started laughing, sliding more carefully down himself and assisting his friend to regain his traction.

"Shut-up," Jordan grumbled, feeling his cheeks color very slightly as he started sliding down the edge. He lowered himself slowly until his feet hit the half-wall, then stepped slightly aside to help guide his friend over the edge.

"I told you this was a good place to sit," Heero muttered, brushing his rear off a bit. "If you keep low and quiet, no one notices you."

"You think anyone would flip if I took Xane with me?"

"Why?" Heero asked somewhat skeptically, feeling a pit in his stomach. He'd realized that it was well within Jordan's self-control to maneuver a situation around so he could place a few well-aimed shots.

"Jon noted that he could be a target," the man shrugged slightly, looking to his feet. He dropped off the low wall onto the sidewalk. "If he's willing to beat someone around just for kicks, I don't want to find out what he'll do if we irritate him."

His comment on atrocities crossed Heero's mind again and he nodded somewhat. Having Mouthy with Jordan would certainly ease the burden on his mind somewhat. That was the only reason he had any issues with their plan to stay with the leaders for the week. Granted, having Jordan working on Xane's safety as much as he himself would definitely ease the situation.

"That…yeah," Heero muttered finally. "I approve of it, we can get the others to, too."

"How will we explain it to him, though?" Jor slowed to study his comrade seriously. "If none of you are taking seconds, how should we explain it?"

"Honestly," Heero shrugged slightly. "You noted yourself that he's associated with you. Besides, it'll piss off James."

That made Jordan smirk. Xane's main boyfriend was an irritation in the best of situations.

"You might want to…to…" Heero hesitated as his mind flashed back to the severe beatings he'd received in his youth, then shuddered away from the memory.

"Hm?" Jordan asked, starting for the building and glancing to the man.

"Nothing," Heero muttered. "I was going to suggest something that would probably horrify you."

"Like what?"

Heero looked away a moment, then started toward the guy. "Beat him."

Jordan stopped, looking to him in disbelief.

"Like I said, never mind."

"He like…_thrives_ on physical affection, and you want me to _hit_ him?" The idea actually offended Jordan.

"I say again," Heero muttered, moving past him, "never mind."

"That is the singly most fucked up thing you have _ever_ suggested, Yuy," Jordan persisted, keeping pace with the faster strides. "You've said some real _shit_ to me, but this takes the fuckin' cake."

"You're wearing your rank," Heero muttered. "Don't talk like a street-rat."

"Don't try to change the topic. Why did that thought _even_ cross your mind? Shit, I don't even think that's _legal_."

Heero shrugged noncommittally, starting for the stairs.

Jordan stared after him a moment, still offended. He changed his focus toward the floor level instead of ascending the stairs, then looked around as something caught his attention. It was a feeling more than anything, and he wondered how much of it was that Quatre was connected to him…at any rate, his eyes landed on Xane himself as the guy talked into his cell phone with a happy smile.

Jordan took a step toward him, then turned his head sharply as that something that had distracted him prickled…to see Corringer standing at the end of a hall with his arms crossed and his focus completely on the green-eyed male.

Anger, fear, and something else flashed through Jordan's senses and he found his hand had strayed toward his weapon.

…_brutally, and publicly…_

"Maxwell!" Xane bounced as he noticed his superior, closing his phone and lowering it as he saluted. He still had that happiness about him as he bounced across the room. "Morning, oh great leader."

Jordan returned the smile slightly, then turned to meet eyes with Corringer. Xane stopped next to him and followed his focus until he saw Corringer himself, blinking as a sick feeling of uncertainty weighed down in his stomach.

Corringer stood straighter as he noticed Jordan's attention, reminded of the guy's irritation when they'd been on the breezeway. He looked back to Xane, then backed up another step and turned, disappearing down the hall.

"If he's ever near you," Jordan said levelly, looking back to his second, "you'd better call us."

"Sir," Xane muttered, blinking at the order that even _sounded_ like the one Heero'd given.

"Come on, let's go up to my office," he turned and started toward the stairs, the idea of his own office making him feel a little better. Une had converted a small office and part of an overly large utility closet into an office for Jordan in the area by those of his friends.

"Well, sir," Xane loosened his tie with a grin, "I didn't know that was allowed."

Jordan snickered, turning to give him a 'hush' sort of look. "Who has to find out?"

Xane started laughing.

- -

"Heero overheard Corringer saying he'd perform some atrocities on Xane to keep Jordan docile," Wufei explained to Morgan as the pair rode in the back seat of Heero's SUV. Mario, Heero's second, was sitting in the passenger seat. "He insisted that Xane go with him…you've seen the two of them. Shit, they got me to start doing it."

"I don't mind being petted too badly," Morgan muttered with a grin.

"Yeah, but Danielle's giving me shit," Wufei considered the girl a moment, then sighed regretfully. "Don't let me forget to get her something while we're gone."

"Um, there's no way I hell you yourself would forget," Morgan noted. "She's got you whipped you know."

"Mm…but it's so _nice_," Wufei nearly purred the words as Mario snickered and Heero grinned. "Get a girlfriend, Morgan. They do wondrous things for your outlook on life."

Morgan laughed.

"My point, though," Wufei noted, "is that you'd have to be deaf and blind not to see how attached Jor is to the little mouth. If I wanted something to hold…"

"My thought would be his girlfriend," Morgan protested.

"Shit, _Duo's_?" Heero asked, looking in the review mirror. "There was an incident once before we ran where his girlfriend was put in a safe room," the guy glanced to Mario. "He'd infiltrated the place before us, and by the time we got there…"

Wufei shuddered at the memory of the blood. "You don't touch Jordan's girlfriends unless you're ready to lose yourself and your men."

"I'm starting to see some definite benefits to his friendship," Morgan noted to Mario.

"Until you add in the bit where it makes you a target," Mario suggested. "The two things make it come out about even with or without him."

"Hm, point."

Wufei marveled a moment at the very civil conversation they were holding, deciding that Chai's making them cooperate in her house was a very good thing.

"The thing with Jordan," Heero added, "is that he has a history more tied to his personal life than we do…well," Heero glanced at Wufei. "Not all of us."

"No," Wufei reassured him, "she went out of her own accord to protect us…and when they….uh…" the Chinese man's throat constricted as he refused to let himself remember and tried to think of some sort of summation.

"What went down with him to make him so blood-thirsty?" Morgan asked quickly. He'd talked the story out of Wufei before and felt no need in seeing the man's complete and utter grief ever again. He also didn't want his friend exposed to the raw emotions like that. He noted Heero studying his eyes in the mirror and averted his own.

Mario looked to his leader a moment, then back toward Wufei expectantly.

"Rebels," Heero shrugged. "He was just some orphan in just some church when the rebels came and took the place hostage and sent him to fetch an MS for them from the local base…by the time he got back, there was no one left alive."

"Ooh," Mario flinched hard at that. "I'd heard of that one."

"He's always had a group of varying degrees around him," Heero added, thinking back to the friends that'd gravitated to the braided male fondly. "It was no different when he was young. Shit went down and he stowed on some ship, and because the pilot of Deathscythe because of it."

"So…he just goes berserk?"

"Oh no," Wufei laughed a bit coldly. "He's perfectly lucid. There's a reason he's the god of death."

"He was born of no woman to no man," Heero noted, grinning slightly. "Willed himself of the void."

"I _told_ you to stop reading those damn epics," Wufei muttered as Morgan blinked at the guy's head.

"He said it himself, Wufei," Heero muttered, glancing to him. "You're not fair to me."

"How about you?" Mario muttered to Wufei, looking to the ceiling. "I never did get a straight story on why you joined."

"Now that's just fucking stupid," Morgan sighed, looking out his window with a hand to his mouth.

"What?" Mario asked, blinking at the man.

"My…wife," Wufei said quietly, looking out his own window.

Their voices were quiet as they explained his immersion into the world that had taken him over, and when he hesitated over the information of his colony's destruction, Heero interjected with information he knew Mario was more interested in. His own story. He'd never told his second about the happenings that brought him to war.

For all that they'd never pretended to get along before, Morgan made a comment so absolutely dripping with respect that Heero did a double take. He'd always assumed the man just didn't like him, and had been completely content with the assessment, but there was something in the man's manner that suggested his attitude was a reaction.

"So why am I in this car heading to god knows where with two men who saved the world?" Mario asked no one in particular.

"We didn't save the world," Heero noted, reading a sign to be sure they were heading the right direction. "And we're going to Zachary Baits' to camp out with him."

"Why am I here?" Mario persisted.

"Yuy overheard Corringer saying he'd perform some atrocities on Mouthy to keep Maxwell docile," Morgan noted with a grin. "Maxwell insisted that Mouthy go with him."

Mario started laughing.


	30. Playing With Fire

**Playing With Fire**

Watching Doug and Xane talk was like watching a perfectly timed movie. Come-on, rebuttal, suggestion, and assessment flowed between them in turns as Trowa thoroughly allowed himself to enjoy the conversation. Even Quatre was reduced to laughter when Xane suggested that Doug do something that included closing his eyes. Jordan wasn't able to follow all of what was going on, because he was driving and focused on projecting that sensation Quatre always claimed to focus on for Paris, who was sitting somewhat nervously in the passenger seat of Quatre's SUV.

"Cuffs," Xane muttered, extending one hand toward Jordan.

Jordan noted that he didn't want to know and pulled the cuffs he wore on his belt out to hand to the man.

"_Jordan_!" Trowa protested as Doug squawked and tried to climb over the seat.

Xane laughed naughtily and the back of the vehicle bounced hard.

"Dear god, I have to pull this over, don't I?" Jordan asked Paris.

"Well, there was a comment made about a minute ago that if Xane could get Doug cuffed, he could have his way with him."

So that explained the commotion. "Oops."

Xane's laughter informed Jordan that something had happened, and he hazarded a glance to the back…where his second was cuffed with his face pressed into the window.

"You know, Xane," Jordan muttered, "you're getting the window all dirty."

"Oops, sorry, Q," Xane apologized to the owner as he shoved away from the window…and the commotion redoubled.

"What the…_Doug_!"

This time the cuffs were on Trowa, who was extremely confused as he hovered over the back seat and Quatre died laughing.

"Oops, sorry, Tro," Doug muttered, releasing them.

"I have a voice key on those," Jordan noted quietly to Paris. "Tell me when to cue it."

Paris died laughing, turning to watch the goings on more properly as Quatre managed to get cuffed. When things seemed about to get out of hand, Jordan took a corner a bit hard, which successfully reminded the lot that they were in a vehicle.

"And…" Paris sat up very slightly.

Since fifteen or twenty minutes had passed since Jordan had mentioned the voice key, it took him a moment to connect what the lanky man was muttering about.

"Not…" Doug started to Xane.

"Now!" Paris bounced slightly in his seat.

"Prism nine," Jordan announced in a loud and firm tone.

The cuffs clicked.

"What the…" Doug started as Paris crowed with delight.

"What did you just…"

"Voice key," Xane nearly purred in realization, starting to laugh evilly.

"Hm," Jordan glanced in the review mirror at Trowa's stunned expression. He could see Doug's absolute dismay beyond his comrade as the cuffed man looked at someone out of the mirror's line of vision—presumably Xane. "Paradime."

"What would the second code be?" Quatre breathed.

"Mouthy, wait," Tro started…and Xane cried out in absolute shock…

Literal shock.

Jordan started laughing evilly.

"Holy shit," Xane breathed, looking around to the back of Jordan's head in disbelief. He reached forward slowly, focused on the cuffs, and before he could touch the man again, the shock was delivered a second time.

"You have these on your _belt_?" Quatre demanded of Jordan, then noted Paris' continued snickering. "What's…what…"

"I told him to tell me when to cue them," Jordan explained. "About twenty minutes ago, actually."

"Paris!" Quatre protested.

"Mouthy's fun to sync with," Paris explained, bouncing slightly.

"That's…disturbing," Trowa noted.

"Sync?" Jordan muttered.

"You have his immediate person protected," Quatre muttered slowly, raising an eyebrow. "But he's got the range that he can focus beyond that."

"So he's…focusing on Xane?"

"Why are you the only one who calls me by name when you made up the damn nickname?" Xane asked curiously, then thought about what had been said and tilted his head.

Paris gasped, pulling away from the back of his seat as Quatre threw himself against the door and the back of the passenger seat, staring at the male.

Xane laughed evilly.

"You're fucked _up_!" Quatre breathed.

"Key down," Jordan noted loudly…and the small generator of his cuffs cut out, he repeated the phrase and the cuffs unlocked.

"What's the matter?" Trowa muttered, studying Quatre.

"Yeah, he's genuinely bi," the blond returned. "He's very genuinely bi."

"I just…" Xane laughed a bit evilly, teasing slightly at the back of Tro's hands, "put out an idea or two…don't worry, I know what I can do with them. I won't do it."

"I've never actually thought about it," Jordan noted, looking to Paris. "You into guys at all?"

"Why do you ask?" Paris' tone was a bit choked.

"I like to know who I have around me," Jordan shrugged.

"Considering the topic going on back here," Quatre noted, "I think I might mistrust your true intentions."

"I'm just _asking_" Jordan retorted, then reached back as Doug passed him the cuffs.

"You really want to play with me, little boy?" Trowa asked Xane, studying him seriously. "Do you really want to _try_ me?"

Xane moved his hand away, blinking uncertainly at the male.

Trowa smirked.

- -

"How was the drive?" Zachary asked Heero through a huge yawn as they started for the front of his house. "I'm glad to be home."

Heero shrugged a bit noncommittally. Mario and Morgan had eventually fallen asleep. That'd left Heero and Wufei free to talk normally. The topic of their training seemed to be coming to his mind more and more, if not only because he'd absolutely offended Jordan. He hadn't realized that his friend _hadn't_ been beaten, and didn't want to ask Wufei if he had, though the man's martial-arts status indicated a negative.

There would be no way in hell that the Winner heir would have been beaten, so that dropped Quatre out of the loop, and the remaining bit would have been Trowa. Trowa'd been raised in more of a family group…so that meant that he himself had only been the one…of course, he'd been trained to be emotionless, too, hadn't he?

"What's the matter?" Zach pressed, studying his friend's face with some concern.

…Seems like the people who had him were a lot less moral than the others…but then again, how many of the others had been trained to assassinate by five?

"Shit's been coming up all week," Heero explained as the man moved in the front door. "We've been talking about our training in regards to Maxwell's team. It seems there were a few abnormalities in mine."

"You're the superman who resets his own leg," Zach noted with a slight smirk at the male.

"Good point, I guess," Heero returned the grin.

"They don't call you 'Master Baits' here, do they?" Morgan asked the man as he came in behind them.

Heero closed his eyes, remembering what about Wufei's friend had really annoyed the piss out of him.

"Fuck you," Zach retorted with a laugh, moving to one side. There was absolutely no offense in his manner. "Geeze, that's _original_…I haven't been hearing _since I was __**eight**_"

Morgan snickered.

"Master Zachary!" a man was running from the back area of the house. "I'm sorry, sir! I thought you wouldn't be home for another twenty minutes!"

Zach smiled at the man. "It's fine, Regis. We didn't exactly follow the speed rules at a few spots."

"Oh," the man smiled at that, then shifted where he stood slightly uncomfortably. "I'm sorry…I called in your absence as soon as it'd been confirmed."

"It wasn't your fault, old man," Zachary muttered, patting his arm affectionately. "Did you get the rooms set up that I asked you to?"

"Some humble abode you got here," Morgan noted to the man, though it was more directed to Heero.

"It's bigger'n your barracks," Zach retorted. "And the carpet cost a fortune, so you better take your boots off or I'll get Yuy to kick your ass."

Morgan grinned easily, leaning over to untie his laces.

"Once we get shown to our rooms," Heero reassured his friend, "we'll change into civilian clothing. That way we can claim vacation."

"You _are_ gonna let me make you be tourists, right?" Zach muttered. He'd stopped on his way with his butler to the area under the stairs that was generally a kitchen. "I mean, when I have visitors we usually run all over hell and creation."

Heero shrugged, gesturing a bit to indicate he'd go along with it. He didn't mind the idea of a genuine vacation, and even though he wouldn't be on one, they had to look legit.

Zach smiled at him a moment, then turned and disappeared.

"He hot for you?" Morgan asked Heero under his breath as he studied the former pilot's face.

"Excuse me?" Heero returned pointedly, giving him a look.

"Just askin', shit, I thought we were getting along," Morgan stepped back a pace or two, then grabbed his boots to set near a line of other shoes.

"What's up?" Wufei asked as he moved in with a pair of bags. He'd heard Morgan's comment and was watching Heero expectantly.

"Morgan," Heero muttered seriously as he took his own bag from Mario, "I'd really appreciate it if you don't overdue the bawdy jokes. Zach is easy-going enough that it won't phase him, but I'd appreciate it if you…showed some class."

For all that he didn't want to offend the man, he couldn't think of any other way to say it.

"You don't like my jokes?" Morgan asked, taking his and Wufei's bags as he met the man's eyes. "I'm just playing around…I mean, come on…Baits."

"What?" Wufei asked.

"Mater Baits?" Mario asked, trying not to snicker.

Wufei closed his eyes as Mario was leveled with a dirty look.

"I'll lay off," Morgan noted, "if you're not some complete asshole to me."

"I'm only an asshole when you annoy me."

"That's not true," Wufei protested, yanking his bag back from Morgan as he realized where it went, then blinked as his friend snatched it back again and indicated his boots.

Heero snorted, kicking Wufei's leg where his boot still was as Zach moved back into the hall with a case of Amber.

"Aww, he's a _good_ host!" Morgan noted.

Zachary laughed, then indicated the stairs. "Come on, I'll show you your rooms." He stopped, looking to Heero's boots pointedly, then rolled his eyes. Mario was slipping his feet out of his own. "Fine. You can pay for anything you damage, jackass."

Heero grinned slightly at him, starting to follow. "When I'm playing body-guard, no matter how much a farce we've got going on, I don't take my shoes off."

"No, you mean boots," Wufei corrected, looking to Morgan. "He'll have those on the entire time," he fingered the area where the man had kicked him. "Steel-toe and all that shit."

"You're lucky I was just using the side, then," Heero noted.

"You think you can take me, fucker?" Wufei challenged happily as they moved up the stairs. "I bet I'd have you on your back or knees in about five minutes."

"Wufei, we're not alone…" Heero muttered as Zach snickered evilly.

"You walked into that one," Morgan noted as Mario maintained the semblance of a straight face.

Wufei flashed his second an evil look. "He's worried about not being alone when he's the one who does the orgy thing."

Mario stopped as Zachary's laughter turned delighted.

"Okay, Master Baits," Morgan muttered, studying the man, "I'm straight, Fei is straight, and I got the impression Mario there is straight. Any entertainment for you is with Yuy."

Heero smacked him as Zachary's expression turned almost serious.

"I somehow get the feeling this will be a lot more fun than I initially expected," Wufei noted in Mandarin, studying Heero. "Why didn't you tell me he was normal?"

"Define normal," Zachary retorted…in English.

Wufei blinked at him.

Heero snickered. "Because I don't know which languages he knows and my natural flow with you would be the Mandarin."

…and Zachary started laughing again.

- -

"It's too bad we couldn't pull the same stunt Heero is," Jordan muttered as he and Xane moved into Tirone Beedus' house with Paris and Quatre in tow. "I'd like to play at vacation."

"But you don't have the long-standing friendship with Beedus that Yuy does with Baits," Xane reminded him. "Besides, it makes more sense for him to beg bodyguards out of you since you're the ones who saved him."

Jordan nodded as Quatre moved tiredly through the doors and Trowa followed him with Doug a step behind.

On an amusing note, Doug was an absolute ball of energy…until he ran out, at which point he would drop almost instantly into sleep. He was more trudging behind Trowa than following him, and Jordan wasn't entirely sure the man could be considered awake.

"I don't have any servants," Tirone noted. He'd led the way and was moving around his place flicking lights on. "Go ahead and set your stuff anywhere for now, then we can go about picking your rooms. I usually have more advanced notice than this, so I didn't have time to figure out the internal rank shit that goes on between you."

Trowa offered him a grin at the comment and indicated that he'd be the top-most man.

"Were you taken from here?" Jordan asked, ignoring Tro's pretended subtlety.

Tirone looked the area over and shook his head. "No…I'd been meeting with the mayor of a city about a half hour away from here." He gestured vaguely toward the wall of windows that faced the cliffs. "I don't generally travel with an entourage, so all it took was getting me off main roads."

"Damn," Jordan muttered, looking the area over as he noted plausible entrances aside from just going through the windows…for all that it was a very large issue…and with the right sort of helicopter all you had to do was jump off the cliff-side…

The bottom floor was entirely open, and up the center of the building was a set of stairs. The wall along the cliff-side of the house was completely glass from sunken floor to vaulted ceiling, and the furniture was all low, white, and somewhat overstuffed.

"I see why you needed six of us," Trowa noted, also looking the area over. "Two of us sleep down here. One on either side…Jordan."

"I know," Jordan retorted.

"What about me?" Quatre retorted.

"You need your beauty sleep," Xane quipped, moving around the guy to look to their left and a kitchen.

Quatre snorted.

"Ooh, nice," Paris moved to their right and a large entertainment center. The metal-pipe shelving of it all took up a large portion of the wall. It was lined with cases.

"You don't have to sleep," Xane suggested, smirking slightly. "I'm usually game for entertainment when the sun goes down."

"Xane," Jordan muttered.

Xane laughed happily, though Quatre was giving him a vaguely wary look. "Oh come on, it's a joke," Xane pouted at him.

"You're an emotional ball of pure fuckin' light, jackass," Quatre retorted. "It'd be easy to fall into any trap you set for us."

"Is that why you jumped around like that in the car?" Xane asked, tilting his head. "I didn't mean anything by it, just fucking around."

"Come on, I'll show you the rooms," Tirone muttered in amusement.

"I like how Doug gets him all riled up," Jor muttered sidelong to Trowa, "then leaves him for us to deal with."

"I heard that," Xane protested.

Jordan grinned.

"Call Chai," Quatre muttered, "she's probably waiting for a word from us."

"Doug has that fun metabolism thing where he burns through it quickly," Tro explained, getting aback to Jordan's topic. "If we feed him, he'll perk back up."

"I'm not hungry," Doug muttered tiredly. "I just want to sleep."

"So we'll give you some protein," Trowa shrugged.

"Perimeter searches every four hours," Jordan noted, looking toward the glass walls again. "Before we go, we should get him some of the local garrison."

"I'm assuming you ran here, didn't you?" Trowa asked their host. "This is your voter-base?"

Tirone nodded. "Why?"

"We'll just let it be known that you are a target on some hit-list and inflame your fan-base. As pilots, we'll talk to your garrison about your safety…maybe even let it be hinted at that there's an alternate list for the power that you're on…you know. Sneakily getting the public on our side so when this all breaks into the news…yeah."

"I'll do as you suggest," Tirone shrugged slightly, indicating a room. "This is the smallest."

"I'll take it," Xane, Doug, and Paris chimed in unison, then blinked at each other.

Trowa grinned at the trio, then looked to Jordan. "That's just cute."

"Are they going to bicker?" Tirone asked, then indicated the next door. "This is the next size larger."

"I'll take that one," the three repeated.

"Who gets the smallest?" Jordan asked Quatre and Trowa with a sigh.

"You do," Trowa retorted. "I'll take the next one. We're sleeping downstairs, remember?"

"I thought as much," Jordan sighed again, moving toward the room…then blinking as Xane tried to beat him to it.

"That's a respect, you realize?" Quatre asked.

"Xane," Jordan said quietly, "you get the largest room."

"Hey, now," Quatre muttered in amusement.

"Second largest," Jordan corrected.

"If you could put your bags in here," Tirone muttered to Doug, realizing the room situation would be an issue. He hadn't realized that the boys would argue over who go the _smallest_ room…the humble side of things was sort of nice, really…

"Come on," Xane protested. "You're the superior…"

"Young man," Tirone muttered, which distracted Paris from the argument. He nodded respectfully to their host as he moved into a room assigned to himself. "Quatre," Tirone raised his voice slightly, moving around a slight corner. "This is the largest room."

"Just take the offer," Jordan persisted to Xane. "I appreciate that you want to respect me, but I'm sleeping downstairs anyway, so there's no reason I need decadence."

"I'll sleep down there, then," Xane insisted as Trowa moved into the second smallest of the rooms.

"No you won't," Jordan snapped. "If Corringer's assholes come in, they aren't snatching you up."

Xane stopped, blinking at him.

"Depending on how personal this gets," Jor added, "they might come after you. I don't want to freak you out or anything, but everyone on base, including Corringer, associates you with me, and it's not like I'm not affectionate. I'm sleeping downstairs, I take the smallest room, you sleep upstairs in whatever _other_ room…"

That caused Xane to deflate very slightly.

"Now, Featihl," Jordan added in a quiet command.

The guy sighed, looking away as Tirone moved back into sight with a slight smile.

Jordan tossed his bags on the bed, looking the room over. It was smaller than his back on base, but it was far from seeming it. There was floor room, and none of that wall-decorative clutter that always made a house feel feminine. The single piece of art in the room somehow stated that it was a bachelor's place of residence…if only because the picture depicted the silhouette of a naked lady.

Jordan grinned…it was a nice house. He pulled out his phone, wondering again if he should have left his girlfriend at the behest of the two most promiscuous bastards he'd ever met. He knew Wayne and Logan better than that, of course, but hey…what fun was life without a moment or two of jealousy?


	31. Sweeps

**Sweeps**

Chai took notes on Heero's commentary about seeing shady characters around as Zachary Baits took he and the others from tourist hot-spot to tourist hot-spot. Heero was going on about gardens she'd love and museums she'd have to see some day. There was an opera that he said he managed to sleep through, and a movie theater where he caught up on almost all the movies he'd wanted to see. He was somewhat sad that their week of vacation time was half over, but he had every intention of meeting with the man again.

Running that through the translator, Chai assumed he meant that they'd only seen one or two people who may have had it in for Baits. They were continually in a group of too many people, though, so nothing could be done.

She wondered if she should be put out that Heero'd been taken into a lap of luxury to be wined and dined, while she was stuck on base with two men she hardly knew.

Not that she really knew Jordan's other friends much better.

The timing for the call, around five on Wednesday, had been arranged well before they'd left so Chai could relay messages. She did this by repeating the stories Heero told her to Jordan as much word for word as she could recall. She knew they had some sort of code talk that they'd employ, or assumed it, anyway, so if Heero said a certain phrase, it might bare repeating. Jordan returned with his own story of a house in the middle of nowhere.

His translated to nothing was going on.

He ended with a note that the local garrison of soldiers near Beedus had requested that the former Gundam pilots meet the men. It was a special thing for the local soldiers only…and he asked her to poke at Heero to take a day out of his oh-so-busy schedule to join them if he could manage the long drive.

That translated to a reason for her to let Heero know…they were talking to the garrison. She figured she'd missed something in the message as she informed him she loved him and missed him…which was not a coded message.

"Love you, too, pussycat," he muttered. "We'll be home soon."

- -

"Peace," Trowa noted, running his fingers around the edge of a podium. "It's such a lovely idea…no wars, no power struggles…just harmony…" he looked to the men gathered. "We've managed that harmony, haven't we? Mostly?"

There was a grumble of assent as the soldiers waited almost breathlessly for the point.

"I heard there were a few men upset about old-money," Trowa noted, looking the people over. "Do we have a problem with old money?"

"Only that it's not ours," one soldier noted with a snicker…which got the group approval.

"So the panel…the entire council…all of it," Tro looked around again. "They're taking care of the people?"

That brought some confusion as people agreed, or thought they did until something got dropped on them.

"How confidential can we be, gentlemen?" Trowa asked, moving around the podium and down off the slight stage. "How many of you would rather the old-money families not be in power?"

"But they have the practice," someone called. "Why…they have the education…they know what they're doing…not that the new ones don't, but…"

"But there's no actual problem with our governing system," another man, a lieutenant, agreed.

"Are we all in agreement?" Trowa asked loudly…to a rumble of agreement. "Good. I'll let you in on a secret that only the governing parties know. If a state of emergency was declared and our president and his vice president were unable to function or, god-help-us, dead, then the next person in charge wouldn't be the obvious choice. There's…a second list. A secret list. Only the top-most layers of any government branch know the line of it…well, only the top-most layer is _supposed_ to know."

There was a quiet babble, which was quickly hushed by the highest ranking men in the room.

"There was a leak of the names," Trowa added, shaking his head. "A completely confidential list of names…just…trickled…out," he flicked his hand as he extended his arm away from himself. "There were maybe forty people that should have known it, and we suddenly find out that twice that know."

Silence.

"Two times as many people who should know…knew," Trowa couldn't keep the irritation from his voice as he paced in a slight circle. "How many of you voted for Tirone Beedus? Don't be shy."

A large amount of hands rose into the air.

"Wonderful," Trowa clapped his hands together and bounced on the balls of his feet a bit as he beamed at them all. "Absolutely perfect. We have our loyalty," he noted to Jordan.

That got an instant outcry of voting and loyalty…and it basically ended with the fact that they were all loyal.

"You see," Trowa added, "Tirone was ninth on this secondary list."

The room instantly hushed.

"Beedus was kidnapped two or three months ago, held for two or three weeks, and beaten."

Instant uproar as soldier after soldier rose to their feet demanding blood. The fact that he'd been taken against his will had been noted in the press, but not that he was beaten.

"Fundamentalists," Trowa called loudly over them—and he _was_ heard over them. "Men who work 'for the people,'" he spat the words derisively as he made air-quotes. "Maxwell and Yuy saved him," Trowa gestured toward Jordan, who was sitting on the platform with Quatre. "I'm sure you all heard about the joy-riders with guns? It was _hardly_ a joy ride." The tall male turned to look at Quatre, who was vaguely green around the gills…for all that Jordan was projecting what he could for his friend. "They shot Zachary Baits in the stomach, you know," he added. "He's on the list too…and would you guess who else?"

Names were tossed around before the lieutenant raised his voice. "Marquise."

"Exactly right," Trowa agreed, pointing at him. "Zechs Marquise. Zechs currently employs his own security teams…men who were stationed at that parade he was watching. These men weren't lax, the assassin just happened to be taking an extraordinary risk…and just happened to be within a hundred feet of me, Yuy, Winner, and Chang. Chang's a bit faster than we are, or maybe he was just looking at the right spot at the right time…but they _shot_ Baits in the stomach and rigged the house he was holed-up in to explode with a motion detection bomb."

More cries of alarm, seeing as many people had heard about the house that had exploded, though no one had gotten the end story of why.

"See, our fundamentalists," Trowa laughed a bit, "forgot to take his _phone_."

Disbelief.

"I'm going insane," Quatre muttered, trying not to hyperventilate as he stared wide eyed at the podium. "Jordan…"

"Shh," Jor shifted closer to his friend as Trowa continued on with his story. It was more than they'd agreed on to share, but at the same time Trowa knew what he was doing. "Just focus on me, huh?"

"There are too many," Quatre whimpered. "Too many…everywhere…"

"Quatre, don't do this," Jordan muttered, reaching over and resting his hand on the other's forearm.

There was another outcry from the group at whatever Trowa was saying…and Quatre outright _bolted_ to a trashcan, retching hard as the shock of the masses focused on him instead.

"Empath!" one of the lieutenants shouted. "Empath!" The cry carried out across the room of the two hundred or so men…and an almost tangible shift came over the room…dead silence, for one…but the focus…

Trowa blinked, then moved to Quatre with Jordan. They both rested their hands on the guy, Tro focusing on what he'd been trained and Jor doing what he always did…as a man came up to them with a water bottle.

"Hold it!" one man ordered to a corner, to very young looking people. "This many in a room have to be assaulting him. You _hold_ it!"

"What is this?" Trowa asked, noting that Quatre was calming. "What's…"

"We have a rather strong empath who boarded with us," the lieutenant offered. "We had special trainings to help him. He's moved onto your base now, a guy named Riggs…you know him?"

"I can't say I do," Trowa frowned as he thought.

"Good man," Quatre called loudly, rinsing his mouth and spitting the water into the can. "He's a good man."

"We figured that emotional control would be a good trait for soldiers," the guy added somewhat proudly. "It also keeps them from starting riots."

Trowa laughed a bit evilly at that, looking back to Quatre.

"I appreciate it," Quatre muttered, amazed by the empty feeling of the room as he swallowed. "But seeing this many men with no emotions but his amusement," he indicated Trowa, "is really _fucking_ with me…I…I need to…"

"I have an office above here," a man offered. "It would provide a buffer for Riggs when he was having a bad day…you can…use it, if you'd want. I'd be honored."

"Thank you," Quatre agreed, moving to follow the man, then offered the soldier the water bottle back. That received a negation, and Quatre offered him a salute before turning and leaving the room.

- -

"Can I kill him?" Wufei whispered to Heero as they moved together through a mall. There'd been a man dogging their trail the entire week, and Wufei'd decided he missed Jordan enough to pull one of his stunts.

"No," Heero refuted, giving him a look.

"But I really really _want_ to," Wufei protested, offering Zach a bright smile.

Zachary laughed, turning toward a Streak-Red outlet.

"You know, now you just sound like Duo," Heero retorted.

"One does ones best," the comment was slightly modest before, "don't call him that."

Heero laughed.

"Hey, Fei," Morgan muttered, spotting some shirts, "check these out."

Wufei moved toward his friend as Mario looked the room over and wandered toward his own choice.

"I usually have a stylist," Zach muttered, moving to a rack. "If I'm gonna be buying something from a store like this I usually have someone to advise me that wearing a shirt that says to fuck off is a bad idea."

Heero laughed, raising a shirt that said the words in tiny print. "So buy this one."

Zachary started laughing.

- -

"They just rallied everyone here," Darian muttered over his cell-phone to Corringer. "Barton, Maxwell, and Winner just told everyone stationed here about the second list and…everyone's lining up to do guard duty on Beedus."

"Son of a _bitch_!" Corringer swore viciously. "I knew I shoulda just fuckin' killed him!"

"There's no way I can get to him," Darian persisted, swallowing as he looked around himself. "I have to abort."

"You can't sign up for a shift and just do it then?"

"No," Darian growled through clenched teeth. "Did you not _hear_ me? They rallied everyone on the base to save him."

"Shit," Corringer punched a wall in irritation. "Just back down…what did they say?"

"I'm not a member of the base," Darian retorted. "I got put on perimeter duty and didn't hear any of it. My information is all second-hand."

"Did…who did that? Who made it like that?" Corringer had a horrible thought that the pilots may have figured something out.

"The base listing," Darian shrugged slightly. "Listening to the speeches was a special treat for the locals…it was arranged by _their_ higher ups…Beedus is out of my reach."

"Then get out of harm's way," Corringer muttered, pulling his phone from his ear. "We can take care of him later…" he closed his phone.

"What's the matter?" Crater asked, studying his friend and leader.

"Beedus is on a top shelf…let's hope McDussen can get at least Baits gone."

"We still have to figure out Fontinelle," Crater reminded him. "Then Zerone and Wilkon."

Corringer waved him off, thinking more as he paced, then shook his head. "Let's just wait for McDussen."

- -

"So Yuy tells me that I'd better _not_ fuckin' tell Maxwell," Xane muttered as he sat with Beedus and Paris near the entertainment center. "Because evidently, Maxwell will just kill them."

"He's…uh…a bit violent," Tirone noted with a slight grin. "I once heard…you remember Shbleiker, don't you? She helped with the war efforts and stuff…German girl, I think…"

"Yeah?" Xane muttered, taking another pull from his cup.

"Well, Maxwell was dating her back when they were seventeen or so…and you know him. He's sent to infiltrate all the time…took her with him, most of them. I guess she ended up getting caught and it ended in something of a massacre. Granted, the people who took her weren't so nice themselves, but Maxwell did it alone."

"The news said the five of them were together, though," Xane protested, remembering the breaking story. "That they were attacked by some rebel faction or something and they had to use excessive violence to oppress the insurgents."

"Pretty way of saying they killed thirty or so men," Paris retorted, shaking his head. "You can't tell me Maxwell did that all himself…not at seventeen."

"There's a reason he's not worried about his girlfriend being nabbed," Tirone noted, studying the pair in front of him. "Heero's told me before that Jordan adopted a theory of…Darwinian proportions. He said that Duo, this is a quote, that Duo said that he'll make an object lesson of the first people who cross him. He's shown his girlfriend's status as untouchable, and I'm sure if he finds out about the threat on Mouthy…well, he'd probably go put a bullet through the enemy's head."

"Publicly and brutally," Xane agreed morosely. "Yuy told me that it'd cause a massacre. But now Jor's picked up on the threat and that's why he's babying me."

"What part of _atrocity_ isn't making it through that pea brain of yours?" Paris demanded, studying the man. "Do you not get that the man probably means to slice off an appendage or two? I don't know about you, but I prefer all mine firmly attached."

"I just feel so _useless_," Xane snapped, rising to his feet and starting to pace around. "I feel like he thinks I couldn't take it, but he says I'm the best of the five of us."

"What the hell is he even training you for?" Doug asked, moving back to them from a bathroom. "I've never got the full story of it."

"They're spies," Paris explained happily. "Jordan's teaching them to assimilate into any society at any time for any reason."

"That's cool…so like, you know how to do everything?"

"He's teaching us," Xane admitted, thinking over the training sessions.

"So…what do you think about killing?" Doug asked, sitting down and picking up his bottle of water.

"I don't know."

"How much self-defense training you got?" the redhead persisted.

"Some…"

"Have you ever been hit around?"

Xane shuddered slightly and frowned at him.

"Oh, that's right," Doug said it a bit pointedly, "you like being touched…"

"Listen, firecrotch," Xane started.

Paris and Tirone snickered.

"How would you react to suddenly being thrown into a dark room and beaten to unconsciousness?" Doug cut him off, setting the water bottle down. "How would you react if they raped you? How would you react if they started cutting off fingers or toes? They won't be trying to get information out of you…and if Jordan does something they don't like they'll be apt to just kill you."

Xane stared at him.

"He's not _babying_ you," Doug added a bit derisively, picking up the bottle again. "He's protecting you until you have the means to get yourself out of these situations. You have any idea how horrified Jordan'd be if you were nabbed or killed because of him? He loves you, man. You're on par with Trowa and Quatre in his eyes…up there with Wufei and Heero. We all are," he noted, looking to Paris. "We're part of their in-crowd, and if you haven't noticed by the dinners and parties, they share and share alike."

"But they'd save me," Xane muttered, frowning a bit. "They'd come save me…it's not like I'd have to bear with it long."

"How long does it take to cut off a hand?" Doug pointed out. "How long would it take for them to find you? How much shit would they pull off in that time? Didn't it take him like…ten hours or something to find Baits? You could be dead before he got to you."

Xane sat back.

"Until he's got you on the same level as us," he indicated Paris, "no offense intended, but until you have the same basic shit we went through…he's not gonna leave you vulnerable."

"I thought you guys weren't trained, though," Xane started.

Doug smirked slightly. "We've been trained by them for their standards…they aren't cross training us for anything but name, really…we already know it all."

"No," Paris corrected, "they use different hand-signals."

Xane blinked.

"But they're all basically the same," Doug pointed out. "I mean…Jor halves a lot of them, Trowa's are just lazy…Wufei has them sharp…I mean, come on, they communicate with each other like that."

"That's true," Paris nodded his agreement. "Quatre's are normal."

"No, his are round and hard to follow," the guy smirked slightly. "You forget that you lot communicate with emotions themselves."

That got a group grin.

"I find it fascinating to see you all together," Tirone noted, bringing himself into attention again. He wasn't going to admit that he liked being the center of attention, so he decided that it was his house and he could change topic at will. "When the guys are around, you even deal with each other differently…but tonight…"

"I respect Trowa to the very center of my being," Doug explained. "He's taught me things that I would have never thought of, and like Mouthy said earlier. They'll save us. They _will_ come for us."

"Quatre accepted me," Paris shrugged a bit. "I could read you all right now where we sit and almost know what you're thinking when I do it, and even though there is that, Quatre accepted me. He's loyal, I can rely on him…and you guys accept me."

"Why wouldn't we?" Xane asked, smirking slightly. "You're just as fun to mess with as Jordan."

Paris smiled at him and shook his head. "You wouldn't understand unless you saw it, and it would make you mad."

Xane considered things when Tirone focused on him with interest, then shrugged. "It just works. Jordan…I dunno. I've always been a physical person," he ran a hand along Tirone's forearm. "Most of the time I don't think about the touching that I do…granted this was an example," he gestured. "But…I don't think about it. When I start doing it," he focused on the others, "I'll do it to you both eventually…people don't always react amicably. When I did it to Jor he smiled at me…you know? It's the simple things…and like Firecrotch pointed out, they care."

"Knock it off," Doug protested. "Sheesh…"

"If you all are going to _insist_ on calling me mouthy," Xane noted, "then I'll come up with something else for you."

"Where _did_ that come from?" Doug asked curiously. "Logan and Wayne suggested blow-jobs."

"Of course they did," Paris noted in amusement.

"When we first met up with Jordan, he came in with apples. I pointed out to him that Sleeping Beauty was poisoned by apples into a sleep of death, and he corrected me that it was Snow White. He didn't like Featihl, so there it stands."

"Just like that?" Doug stared at him a moment, then rolled his eyes. "Doesn't it _figure_…"

Xane laughed.

"Thing is," Paris went back to their former subject, "we want to do what they need us to do…and Quatre's my best friend, so that just sort of takes my attention, you know? He's not here right now, so I change focus…and that just sounded really gay."

Xane and Doug snickered at him and shrugged to Tirone.

Tirone grinned back at them and nodded. "I get your point, though. Isn't it about time for a patrol?"

"Ooh, ouch," Doug flinched as he looked to his watch and stood. "I don't know if I should go alone or not," he added, thinking about it.

"Normally, no," Trowa muttered…which caused them all to jump since no one had heard the front door open. "But in this situation, it's a bit complicated."

"Hey!" Xane bounced up and moved toward Jordan. His friend looked tired.

"Hey," Jordan returned, ruffling his hair in passing, "hey, Tirone."

"Hi, Jor. How'd it go?"

"We've got a troop surrounding the perimeter now," Trowa explained. "I told them what was going on and they volunteered for duty tours…a good two hundred men, so they'll swap out off and on."

Tirone stood, looking amazed.

"Yeah, you should probably go welcome them to your house or something," Tro agreed. "Make a speech of it…comment once or twice on loyalty."

- -

It was Streak-Red that did it.

McDussen leaned against the wall more, looking to the ceiling.

Baits was absolutely bouncing around that store with Yuy, and everything that was said brought laughter; every thing shown brought laughter…everything looked at brought laughter.

McDussen couldn't kill the man.

Actually, watching the way the group in the store shopped absolutely randomly, had pointed something out to McDussen, who'd been thinking a lot since he could never get a clear shot.

Maybe Corringer was wrong…maybe the old money didn't hurt…

Not that Zachary Baits was really old money. He was second-generation cash, and had been raised in an urban apartment building. He'd worked his way up the ladder himself, though…and, well, Terry Shifton was an ass anyway, right?

The whole thing was wonky, McDussen decided, pushing away from the wall. Everything was fucked up. There had to be a different way to go about getting anyone in charge…a way that didn't include murder or beating.

Something had to be wrong with Corringer's head…and that meant the man was apt to kill turncoats.

Witness protection?

The group moved out of the outlet store with bags, and Baits' face shone with the happiness of a child…someone who meant no one any harm and would do what he could to help others. Baits was a simple man with simple pleasures. He took his duties seriously, and his playtime more so…

They moved right by McDussen, and in a moment of brave giving up, he yanked Yuy's wrist and pulled the man after him down the side hall that led to a fire escape. He noted the rest of the group stopping to look, but pulled the man into the alley and shut the door before anyone could investigate the momentary siren.

"You normally pull strange me into the alleys?" Heero asked curiously, smirking a bit.

McDussen offered the man his pistol and sank to his knees when the man had taken it.

"What's this?" Heero demanded, pointing the weapon away.

"I'm a dead man no matter how anything works out, and I'd rather you did it than Corringer."

"What?" Heero asked quietly, studying him seriously.

"I was sent here to end Baits' life," McDussen confessed.

"I know," Heero reassured him. "So where does me holding your gun and you on your knees come into play?"

McDussen looked up to him in amazement.

Heero squatted down so they were face to face. "Does Corringer honestly believe we don't know what he and Crater are up to?"

The man's face blanched.

"Are you willing to testify?" Heero added. "You brought him up yourself. Are you willing to tell the world what he's up to? To face sure scorn?"

"I'm a dead man no matter how you look at it," McDussen noted shaking his head a bit. "If Corringer himself doesn't wipe me out, he'll find someone else to do it."

"How was the hit on Zechs Marquise orchestrated?"

"Simple credit transfer," McDussen shrugged. "He talked to his assassin over the phone, then gave the man credits."

"And you're not lying to me?"

"You're holding my gun in your hand and I'm on my knees in a back alley. Why don't you do the math?"

"It suggests saving your own skin," Heero retorted, setting the gun down between them. "If you're serious about this, play it normal until I get back to base in uniform, huh?"

"I have to call and check in," McDussen snapped at him. "I have to tell him…"

"Tell Corringer that we keep Baits in well lit places full of people? Or very dark places," a slight smirk crossed his face. "Tell him that we move around him in a pack. That there's no real opening where we couldn't get him out of the way? Do _you_ honestly think we're complete amateurs? For god's sake man, I take Relena _Peacecraft_ around."

The man shifted back.

"Be a good fellow and wipe off my prints," Heero added, indicating the gun. "I have enough of my own weapons on me where I don't need yours, so there's no point marking what you did."

"You have weapons on you?" McDussen demanded, lifting the gun and starting to wipe it down with his shirt as he looked the man over. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt…with steel toed boots.

Heero pulled one of his own pistols, pressing the tip of it to the man's forehead. "This even has a silencer."

McDussen froze, closing his eyes.

"And if anyone saw me do that to you I'd get chewed from here 'til November…well, forever…so leave that one out of the notes if you will," Heero straightened, putting the sidearm away. "I suggest you keep on us," Heero added. "Report like a good little bitch…and for god's sake, don't pull _me_ into back alleys," he shook his head as he looked around, then turned back to the mall doors…that were closed. There was no handle from the outside, so he tapped his fingertips on it randomly.

Wufei pushed it open, giving him a curious look.

"You coming back in or not?" Heero demanded as he moved through the opening.

McDussen rose slowly, and followed the pair back into the mall.


	32. Next Step

**Next Step**

"You stirred up quite the hornet's nest, Mr. Maxwell," a woman purred the words as Jordan moved out of a grocery store with their supplies for the drive home.

Jordan stopped, blinking at her.

"I'm Melissa Ling with the Chemwahl Times," she added, offering her hand. "I heard that you and the other pilots were speaking locally, but couldn't get inside the base to hear what you had to say."

Jordan smiled, stopping closer to her than he should have. Pushy ladies were entertaining enough, but they could be conquered.

"Do you mind if I ask a few questions?"

Jordan shifted slightly more at the very edge of her personal space, looking her over with a slight smile. "Sure, I can spare you a few minutes…" he grinned a bit more as he imagined what Chai might say to that.

She hesitated, then met his eyes again. "The morale of the men lifted almost overnight. Talking to you had to be a great honor…can you tell me the main of the conversation?"

"We thanked the men for loyal service," Jordan explained, shifting a hair closer. He had to get her to move back some so he knew how hard it would be to make her give-over. "I'm sure an informed lady of your class would have heard that Tirone Beedus was taken captive a few months ago. He requested that the pilots and I stay at his home for a time so he could settle back in and feel safe again. Since we were here publicly, the base contacted us with a request for a special session."

She shifted back very slightly, looking down to write the information on her notepad before composing herself and meeting his eyes. "We saw a bus load of men heading out to the Beedus estate," she noted, not quite meeting his eyes. "Is there a reason for that?"

"My comrades and I have to head back to base today," Jordan shrugged slightly, smiling a little more at her, giving himself a moment to imagine what she might look like undressed…not very impressive, but hey. "Mr. Beedus is still somewhat upset after his ordeal."

She looked away again and wrote that down, then nodded before meeting his eyes and glaring at him. "I don't appreciate your attempts to end this discussion."

Jordan laughed at that. "But you can't bring yourself to hold my eyes now, can you? No offense intended, but I try to stay out of the limelight as much as I can. It doesn't work with my complexion."

A genuine smile flashed across her face at that and she looked away again.

"I have to get going," Jordan added, moving in closer as she hesitated. "I'll have to end this interview early."

"Asshole," she muttered as he started away.

"What's worse?" he asked as she tucked the notepad away. "The fact that I did it, or the fact that I didn't mean it?"

She glowered at him, flushing very slightly.

He winked at her again. "Talk to the base representatives and they'll give you a prettier version of what we said…" he laughed a bit, "and I apologize for being an overbearing male."

"You sleep around a lot," she accused, giving chase. "Only guys who sleep around a lot can pull that shit off."

"I have a girlfriend now," he noted, unlocking Quatre's car. "But I had five years of self indulgence…I guess I have to admit to that."

"Where were you?"

"See, that doesn't need to make it into your little paper," he noted, tapping the purse she was about to dig into. "It was my own personal business and the public probably wouldn't approve."

She stopped again, frowning at him.

"Have a wonderful day," he noted, smiling at her. "I have to get going, I need to stop somewhere on my way home."

"Fine," she muttered, catching up to him and offering her hand. "I am happy to have met you…if only to be disillusioned."

He offered her a genuine smile and shook her hand. "I'm sorry to have made it obvious I'm not some knight in shining armor."

"You might be a knight in shining armor," she noted, "but armor comes off."

He snickered. "Hey, that's a good one." He blinked at the little mini mart as a thought occurred to him. "How did you find me _here_?"

"I live up the street and wanted a caffeine fix," she explained with a smirk. "Just happened on you. I was trying diplomatic channels first, but the base representative wasn't sure how to go about asking you lot for an interview."

He grinned again, winking as he slid into the rig. "The conversation we had with the locals was on a confidential matter, Mrs. Ling."

"Miss, actually," she noted wryly.

He grinned even more, rolling down the window before closing the door. "Miss, then. How about…the talks my comrades and I gave were for the men, Miss Ling. We thanked them for their loyal service and were highly impressed with their level of dedication. The soldiers of Chemwahl do us all proud, and I was glad to have the opportunity to share in this experience." He considered. "That sound properly flattering? You can adlib on it if you want…maybe note that I think you have pretty lips or something."

She giggled at that, looking away.

"No? Ah well…just don't make me sound like some dance instructor and we'll be fine."

"There's nothing wrong with dance instructors," she retorted, moving back as he started the engine.

Jordan grinned, putting the machine in reverse. "My bad."

- -

The formal arrest of Thomas McDussen occurred about ten seconds into the base. Jordan was waiting with the others in the little gatehouse when Heero pulled in with the other car behind him, and he parked his rig before stretching and moving toward McDussen's car. He gestured for the man to park it in the little parking lot next to the gatehouse, and the group who'd been with Beedus moved curiously to see what was going on.

The man started off with a bang, too. He simply started pulling weapons out one by one, at least a dozen of them, passing them to Heero as the guy carefully put them on the hood of the car.

It took about an hour for the desertions to start.

One by one, men looking confused and upset pretended to be calm as they left the base. There were only one or two that the pilots hadn't spotted before, and since the formal questioning was going on, there was no one to give Eastland the order to close the gate.

Matthew Corringer himself pulled to a stop in the little parking lot and darted in to shake the man's hand. He thanked him for all the help and the listening ear he'd offered, and ended it all by giving him a quick hug, apologizing…and running like a scared rabbit.

Eastland wondered if the man noted his sneer.

The sweep of the base for the final irritants went off smoothly. The few who'd been left behind for whatever reason were taken into custody under suspicion of conspiracy.

The list of 'arrest on sight' peoples doubled in size in a manner of minutes…and Corringer's name was on top of the list.

- -

"But where will they go?" Jordan demanded of McDussen tiredly, thinking of all the rats that had slipped through their fingers because Une didn't have the forethought to lock down the base.

Of course, as soon as they realized what Heero'd been doing, they'd known it wasn't going to be as easy as see, snatch, win. Those things never happened.

"Angels," McDussen replied quietly. "Corringer has some friend there whose been helping him plot all along."

"I'm going to laugh if it's Lamb," Jordan noted to Heero, his eyes sparkling. "Corringer'd be in for a big shock then."

"What did you do?" Heero demanded of his friend, noting the look.

"I just stopped by to see Jon," Jordan retorted, giving the man a look. "It seems that Lamb has disappeared."

"I'm sure he's hurt by that," Wufei noted, wondering if Jordan himself had done away with the man or if it was something unrelated.

"Jon? Yeah, heartbroken," Jordan snickered, thinking of how happy the man had been to receive the casing from the bullet that'd done the job. It was going on a string around the man's neck for a certainty. "I hope it's Lamb…"

"He's been mentioning Lamb the entire time," Heero noted. "What's their code of ethics down there?"

"In hell?" Jordan considered it. "I suppose outright tattling would be seen as bad form. Rivalry is one thing, but telling mama is just asking for a black-mark."

"How do you know anything about any of that?" McDussen muttered, blinking at Jordan.

"I lived in Angels for the last five years…I've only been here four or five months now." He studied his nails a moment, then smirked. "Even if his contact was Lamb, Lamb'll have made provisions about helping his friends. He does have a few of those, you know…and there are some _holes_ in Angels."

"And you know every one, don't you?" Wufei accused.

"Intimately," Jordan agreed with a smirk. "I think it's time for my team to go scamper to our own little holes." He turned in a way that sent his hair flying, and would have swung his braid out dramatically, then paused. "Hey, Fei? I could use a hair-cut before I go…if you wouldn't mind."

"Sure, why not," Wufei muttered, rising to his feet.

"Since when do _you_ know how to cut hair?" McDussen demanded, blinking after the pair. "Certainly _you_ wouldn't have gotten your _hands_ dirty."

Wufei turned disbelieving eyes to the man, staring at him incredulously. "_**What**_?"

McDussen looked away.

Heero snickered. "Old money, Fei…old money."

"We never _had_ money," Wufei protested, still disbelieving. "We barely made ends meet…for the entire _colony_."

"But you weren't raised by the people for the people…you were sent to schools and lived…"

"I got a _scholarship_ for boarding school," Wufei protested at him in disbelief. "The funds needed for anything else for _us_ was raised by my clan as a whole…I lived with the rest of the boys my age in the training barracks because it was easier to get us _fed_ and _controlled_…and you think we had _**money**_?" Wufei was obviously offended as he stared at the man in disgust. "You think I was raised in decadence just because I lived in a colony that was _respected_? We were _**warriors**_!" his shout echoed from the walls as Trowa and Heero instantly started for him. Quatre was bent over with his head between his knees. "And short-sighted weaklings like _you_," he pointed his finger at the man, "would have been sent to our fields to do something _useful_ with your life!"

McDussen was staring at him in utter disbelief.

"Look at Quatre," Jordan muttered as Heero and Trowa tried to move in. Wufei was avoiding them. "Look what you're doing to Quatre."

Wufei's eyes landed on the blond, and he stopped completely.

"Come on," Jordan tugged at his arm as Heero gave his friend a disbelieving look. "If you don't cut my hair now I'll re-grow the braid."

Wufei spat in the prisoner's direction. "I can do anything you can do ten times better, faster, and with more _pride_ than anything you'd even dream of. You want to know why I know how to cut hair? I cut my _friends'_ hair by looking at magazines. I looked at _magazines_ to give them the pop hairstyles…fucking idiot…getting my hands dirty…" Wufei's grumbling slid into Mandarin as the group forced him from the room and closed the door behind him.

Quatre had regained himself and was smirking at the man in front of him. "It's _me_ who never got my hands dirty," he noted, displaying his manicured nails to the guy. "It's me," he stood, "who would never dream of cutting someone's hair…why do it when you can pay someone else to, huh?" He snickered. "Shit, I still don't even make my own food…and you're going on about _Wufei_? Why don't you focus on the rich boy," he noted as he moved toward the door. "Not the humble one. Your aggression would be properly placed with me…I _am_ old money."

McDussen blinked at the blond in amazement.

"Thanks for your time," he spat just as derisively, pulling out his wallet and throwing a fifty dollar bill on the table…and then sauntered from the room.

McDussen's eyes narrowed.

"That…went well," Trowa noted a blandly, crossing his arms as he looked to Heero. "That went really well."

They pretended not to notice the man pocketing the money.

- -

"If the men are having these issues," Zechs roared over the crowd, "then we need to up their pay!"

More shouts of disbelief met this.

"I'll take a pay cut!" Zechs shouted over them all. "I'll take a pay cut so the money is better directed!"

"We get paid for this?" Jordan asked Heero sidelong.

Heero smacked him, rising to his feet. "I'll take a pay cut."

Jordan sighed almost forlornly, rising to stand in agreement…as did the other pilots, and the quieting with Quatre. It didn't take long for those who understood the situation to outnumber the ones with the big mouths. There were more people standing than sitting, but the noise was almost deafening as those attempted to get noticed.

"I should shoot my gun to call for order," Jordan noted to Wufei.

"Heero would kill you," Wufei retorted, "or backhand you."

Jordan snickered.

"It's loud in here," Quatre noted.

The pair laughed at that, looking around again.

A hallow sounding pounding began echoing louder and louder as the pilots looked around for the source. Zechs was still carrying his walking stick, and was pounding the butt of it against the stone. They'd been hearing the sound for a while, but it'd taken some time to build up in volume…enough to be noticed.

The noise settled.

"If the common soldier is having a hard time making ends meet," Zechs shouted, "then that's _our_ fault! We're out in our yachts or heading to the lunar resort while they're falling behind on bills! The cost of living doesn't go up pennies a year! Adding ten cents an hour to a soldier's check won't be enough to cover it…and _still_ it's the soldiers who have _earned_ their wages who rise first to give it _up_! I saw the wave in the room. The career military men were on their feet as soon as they realized the pilots agree with me," he gestured to the five of them. "They _agree_ with me! And you're protesting what?" he looked the men over. "All I heard out there was 'my money, my money,' he made air quotes around it. "We have to _do_ something! I'm not saying that this rebellion that brought us here today means they're right to kill off members of our government…"

"I'd take that fat guy out," Jordan confided to Wufei. "His loss would feed about three families."

Wufei elbowed him, trying to keep a straight face.

"…but rebellions are made by the people most oppressed!"

"Only reason Angels hasn't is because no one listens to anyone else," Jordan noted.

"Would you shut up?" Wufei muttered, meeting his eyes briefly. "We don't need any attention on us…especially with this shit you're saying."

Jordan sniggered.

"You stand here and cry at me that you earned your paycheck, and you deserve it…and forget the part where Zachary Baits was grabbed, beaten, and fatally shot in the stomach! You forget that the Gundam pilots ran into that house, and all the thanks they got was shrapnel from the house embedded in their backs!"

"That's not true," Jordan protested. "We got lots of thanks…"

"Shush," Wufei snapped.

"You short _their_ soldiers on cash, but they'd still _save_ your asses!"

"Not the fat guy's," Jordan noted.

Quatre pressed his face into his quieting's arm, trying not to laugh.

"I'm gonna kick your ass," Heero growled sidelong at them all.

Wufei choked on his own laughter.

"Dear god, I'm going to die," the woman with Quatre muttered, barely moving her lips.

Jordan coughed hard to stop his laughter, turning away from the crowd. He'd forgotten the woman could hear his commentary, he was making it specifically for his friends…

"They'll still send their men in!" Zechs' voice had risen enough that there was no way anyone was noticing the little disturbance beside him. "If they'd taken two seconds longer in that room, they all would have died. The vans they had moving in would have been caught in the blast, and those men would have been wounded and maybe even killed! The men are _good_ men! They fulfill their duties every day! You walk around the base and everyone is _smiling_…believe me, I got disgusted by it. Oh yeah, I was _shot_ wasn't I?"

The comment about being disgusted had been met with a sort of whisper.

"I was _shot_ because I'm on a list…I don't know what list it is, I don't know why I was shot, but someone wanted me gone! These rebels…these…whatever we're going to call them…they wanted me _dead_. It opened my eyes. The monetary difference between the officers and the soldiers is _too_ great…and we need to fix that…and _that_ is why I called us together today. I didn't do it to make you cry over that yacht you wanted so badly…I didn't do it to interfere with that third car you've been eyeing…I called you here today to discuss how we can make it _worth_ our soldiers times to show up to work…because when you're dying in debt, patriotism only goes _so_ far."

- -

"Would you look at them?" Xane muttered to Judas, indicating Jordan and Wufei as the pair obviously tried to control their expressions. "That's horrible…what is Jor saying?"

"I haven't figured it out yet," Judas returned, grinning. "But watch, it'll show Quatre here in a second and he's about to die laughing."

The clip rolled to the point where Quatre had turned his face quickly into the woman's arm he was standing by. Her expression was slightly disbelieving and very obviously amused.

"That's horrible," Xane repeated. "God, I hope no one else notices."

Riley giggled.

"Poor Fei," Danielle muttered, moving closer to the screen. "He keeps trying to hush Jordan."

"Xane," Raul muttered poking his head in the door, "I suggest you get out of sight."

Xane blinked at the man, then looked around the room before moving into the crap kitchen. They were in an apartment in Angels. The green-eyed male dropped to the floor, sighing as he leaned against the cupboards.

"I just wanted to welcome you to the building," a male voice explained as the door opened again. "I figure that it pays to know the neighbors."

"I can see that," Raul noted. "Elizabeth, Nicole, Peter, and Richard. I'm Ray."

"Is this all of you?" the neighbor seemed startled.

"For now," Raul sounded amused. "We have a few drifters amongst us."

"I thought I heard more voices."

"We have a tv," Raul pointed out. They'd muted the thing when the door had opened.

"Some speech, huh?" the guy muttered, moving across the living room. Xane felt the floorboards beneath him shift, then lifted his rear and bit his lip as the person on the other end bounced slightly. "Marquise sure knows how to rile'em up. I bet he does it just for jollies."

"You a soldier?" Riley demanded in a tone that was almost a command.

"No…I'm not nearly patriotic enough. Hard to be in this shit hole."

That got a group mutter of agreement, which seemed to satisfy the visitor.

"My name is Jacob," the guy added. "I live up the hall…go ahead and ask me for any help."

_That's not a normal offer,_ Xane noted. _They must be looking for Jordan._

"Yeah, right," Raul sounded amused at the idea. "We'll do that," he laughed a bit.

"Good day," the guy muttered, turning and moving toward the door again, pausing to look the place over one last time…then disappeared.

"Fuckin' weirdo," Danielle noted loud enough to be heard.

The footsteps disappeared.

"Was he testing the floorboards?" Riley asked, moving to look over the counter at Xane.

"Yeah. I felt them move under him," Xane agreed, rising to his feet and shaking his head. "He bounced a bit, but I moved. This floor is shit."

"This _building_ is shit," Raul retorted. "If they keep on us like this we'll need to get Jor to move some chips around the board."

"Yeah," Xane muttered, shaking his head. "Turn the volume back up."

- -

There was something inanely right about walking down the streets of Angels, Jordan noted. The happy banter of his crew belied the hostility of the streets themselves…and they were heading to the bar.

"Your tab's still open!" the bartender noted to Jordan happily when he saw him. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I joined the army," Jordan shrugged. "Got me'n my girl out of here mostly."

"Mostly?" the bartender gave him a look. "What do you mean by that?"

"My tab's still open," Jor returned, smirking.

The man laughed and set the bottles on the counter. "I'll let Jonathan know you're here."

"We'll be playing pool," Jordan noted, pointing to the billiards tables. "Keep'em cold and keep'em coming."

"Will do," the guy noted with a half-assed attempt at a salute as he moved off up the bar.

"He didn't card us," Raul noted in some amusement. "I've never not been carded before."

"Angels," Jordan returned, indicating the building. "The only thing worse than the surroundings is the attitude of the inhabitants."

"Yeah, fuck you," someone nearby noted. "I don't see you runnin' for optimist of the year."

"Shit, you're not dead yet?" Jordan retorted. "You wanna fuck with me, Dune? You honestly think I've changed that much?"

The man spat in his general direction and Jordan led his group toward the tables.

"Is that normal?" Danielle asked nervously.

"Fairly. See that guy there?" he pointed at Stephen, who was at the bottom of the stairs. "I've knocked him out about three times now. He tries to start fights with me at any given chance."

"Threat?"

"You tell me," Jordan muttered, arranging the balls.

"He's watching us."

"His boss has a crush on me," Jordan noted, smirking toward the concealed windows that led to Jon's private little hide-away. The man looked the bar over in amusement, noting someone who seemed very uncomfortable, talking to a leering man. "One of these things is not like the other one," he sang quietly, "one of these things just doesn't belong…one of these things is not like the other ones, can you find it before I finish this song…"

"Oh ow," Xane muttered, moving up to his side and looking around. He focused on the guy himself, grinning a bit. "Shall we go intercede?"

"Oh no, that guy there'll take him home and fuck him. I've seen him with Corringer before, so I'm not too worried about his chastity."

Xane snickered, grabbing a pole and testing the line of it for straightness, then moved to the other end of the table and chalked the tip while Jordan set the triangle on a hook and rolled him the cue ball.

"Doesn't that…like…hurt?" Judas muttered, smirking as he turned back to them.

"A bit," Xane and Jordan noted in unison.

Danielle, Riley, Judas, Raul, and Xane turned to stare at Jordan in disbelief.

"Break it," Jordan ordered, picking out his own stick and he smirked. "I'll cream you."

Xane considered that a moment, then decided he didn't want to comment, focusing on the balls. Jordan'd said before that preferences take a back seat…and Xane didn't particularly need to find out why Jordan'd screwed another man…or whatever the fuck had happened.

Jor let the distraction stand as the others moved across the area to start their own games. In an amazingly short amount of time, Jordan was realizing he'd finished his fourth bottle of beer. He was creaming Xane, whose green eyes were focused intently on the roll of the balls.

"Here," Jordan muttered, moving up behind him and using his stick as a guide to show the other what he'd do. "If she hits here, she'll ricochet this way. If you get it just right and hard enough…" Xane offered him a smirk, then focused on the table again. Jordan studied him a moment with interest, obviously changing focus to his second. "You really don't want to fuck with me. I can pull one over on your psyche."

"I've had plenty to drink," Xane muttered, meeting his eyes, "and you have an awfully pretty mouth. Give me a break. Words like hard and just right…" he laughed a bit.

Jordan laughed. "Just do it about this hard," he snapped Xane's wrist slightly to show what he meant, then moved back.

Xane studied him a moment, then focused on the balls again.

"You getting him drunk so I can molest him?" Jon asked sweetly, moving up behind them.

Xane's reaction to the comment was to hit the ball a lot harder than he meant to as Jordan smacked his friend. The ball he was supposed to bounce a certain way slammed into the edge and ricocheted hard…giving Jordan a better shot.

Jordan laughed again. "That was harder than I said."

Xane turned to meet Jordan's eyes, then look to Breer uncertainly.

"Go extract our big bird, huh?" Jordan asked Xane curiously, moving to take his shot. "Don't need to take him home or anything, just get him away from the lecher before he gets raped at the bar."

The green-eyed male blinked at his superior, then moved across the room to help their enemy out…but didn't move out of earshot in time to miss Jordan telling Jon that Xane was utterly off limits.


	33. The Devil's Playground

**The Devil's Playground**

"Why did you tell Breer not to fuck with me?" Xane muttered to Jordan as the group trudged back toward their apartment.

"Because he's not going to fuck with you," Jordan returned easily, noting that his base living was incredibly more preferable to another winter spent in a badly insulated building. It was only fall, and the idea of what was coming somewhat horrified him.

"What if I wanted to?" Xane demanded.

"You have a boyfriend."

"Three, actually," Xane corrected. "Only one girl right now though."

"Fucking on a regular basis isn't considered a real relationship," Jor noted, meeting his eyes a moment and swaying very slightly. He wasn't sure what the last bottle count had been, and there'd been more after that. "You gonna tell me to stop looking out for you?"

"Don't just go assuming I can't help myself," Xane retorted, wrapping his arms around his chest.

"Put your hood up," Jordan ordered, glancing at him. "And do me a favor. When we're in _my_ territory, take my word for it."

Xane pulled his hood up and glowered a bit, looking to the cement. "I think you're over stepping your bounds."

He'd always been told that honesty was the best policy. He may not have wanted to outright say what his issue was, but maybe it would work.

But then again…

Jordan turned and shoved him against a building, getting into his face. "What do you know about Jon?"

Xane blinked at him.

"How about the part where he tried to get me to sell him Heero? How about the part where I've actually _seen_ him prostitute people he didn't know? You're _cute_, Xane. Your eyes contrast so vividly with your hair, and your eyelashes frame them just right, just dark enough…you're fucking _cute_. Your body is in fine condition, and you look healthy. If he could _break_ you, he could earn…probably millions on you…and that's if he decides to trade in flesh."

The guy blinked, wondering briefly why Jordan didn't seem the slightest bit nervous about discussing attraction issues. Raul and the others had stopped not far off, and they all looked…almost resigned.

"He had kaseen on him, you realize that?" Jor added. "He knows it pisses me off to find some on him, and every now and again he feels the urge to assert authority over me. You're _mine_," he hissed, pulling Xane closer by the collar of his shirt and feeling himself start to overbalance toward the guy, "mine." He moved back and shook his head, spreading his legs a little further to be sure he wouldn't sway again. "He's a kingpin, the leader of a cartel…the godfather of a fucking mafia." He gestured to the surrounding buildings, spinning around in an unsteady circle as he looked at them. "I'd bet you a grand he's got at least one person watching us right now, _right_?" he shouted loudly so his voice echoed through the empty seeming streets.

There was a gravel-like crunch somewhere above.

"See," Jordan moved back to Xane. "You don't understand how all _fucking_ powerful he is here…and this is his home _base_. That _bar_ is _his_ and he has it _crawling_ with his fucking henchmen. I got him out of here and he treated me like an equal, but in Angels I'm just another one of his boys."

Xane wasn't sure what to say or do, but he was starting to feel a little foolish.

"He's been home for three weeks," Jordan added. "His comment about molesting you…shit, that could be face value, or he could be seeing how far you'll let him get away with shit…how far he can push me now that I'm suddenly equal in resources to him. I don't have to bend my knee to him, you know? I don't have to submit to his reign. I have my own power, and it's just growing. So who knows, really? Maybe he just wouldn't mind a go with you, a night with you…or maybe he's up to no good shit that could fuck us _both_ over."

"Hey, Jordan?" Riley asked, moving forward to study his face. There was no graceful way out of the conversation unless the topic was just changed. "You realize how cold it is, don't you?"

Jordan turned to look at her, then noticed a man on a rooftop above her head. He narrowed his eyes slightly, wondering if it was one of Jon's or one of the street-rats

"You've made your point," the girl added quietly. "This is your grounds, and Breer is your friend. It's not like Mouthy _didn't_ obey you…he just wants to be sure you realize what you're doing. Can we go? It's fucking cold out here."

Jordan turned to study Xane's face, then shook his head and started to walk again. Angels could get to him…Angels would always get to him. It screamed desperation and decline…

When they'd walked a few more blocks in silence, Jordan felt a hand brush along his forearm and turned to meet Xane's worried eyes. The guy looked like he didn't know what to say, but it was evident that he didn't want Jordan upset with him.

The ex-pilot sighed. "You're not…mine, not like that. But with him…you're more mine than his and you always will be…I hope. Just…I won't insist on anything else," he added, "but stay away from Jon."

"Fine," Xane agreed quietly, moving to walk next to him again. "You just sent me away and told him that I'm off limits…it's just…"

"We had to talk," Jordan explained, meeting his eyes better. "Telling him to lay off was just one of many things I wanted to share with him. Shit, you were gone enough at that point that he coulda gotten away with it. We're moving on Friday. We're gonna move closer to his center. The people in our building have a few too many ties to Lamb and Corringer."

"What happened to Lamb?" Xane queried, thinking back to the conversations he'd overheard. The man he'd extracted from the lecher had commented that Lamb was missing. It was obvious that he hadn't recognized Xane, and didn't seem to have enough common sense to appreciate that he'd gotten him away from some dirty old man. He'd gotten irritated when he'd realized Xane wasn't actually trying to pick him up.

"Lamb won't be an issue," Jordan said quietly. "Don't ask more than that."

"But he still has friends."

"Corringer's gotta set himself up his own holding. The sanctuary Lamb would have offered will keep him out of our reach for about a month total. That means in a week's time we'd better have all our ducks in a row, because shit will be about to hit the fan inside their circle."

Xane smirked, looking to his friend. "What does _Chai_ say? …about me, I mean. You're a little ranty, you know?"

Jordan gave him a look and rolled his eyes as he thought. "She tells me to watch out, because she'll leave me for cheating," he explained with a smirk. "She tells me that I'm being obsessive, and she tells me that I'm walking a fine line of jealousy."

"That's kinda flattering," he muttered, grinning more.

"I'm special like that," Jordan retorted wryly, turning toward their apartment building. He met the guy's eyes with a smirk. "You're too promiscuous for me anyway."

"You think I couldn't play at good?" Xane demanded, laughing a bit as they started up the stairs. "I could be a one man show if you wanted."

"This isn't a game," Jordan noted, pulling the door open to their floor. "It's not some emotional tease. If I commit, I expect commitment."

Xane decided he didn't have anything to say to that, and was saved from having to when Jordan pressed back against him. The former pilot's entire aura was dangerous threat.

"Hi, I'm Jacob," a man noted happily. "You one of the drifters Ray mentioned?"

"Back the fuck off," Jordan ordered, moving forward and pulling his gun. "Get the hell away from my house."

"You have a good tv," the guy snapped at him, which was when Xane noted the man shoving things into his pockets as he backed off. "You have more blankets."

"If you want blankets, ask to fucking borrow them," Jordan growled, raising the weapon. "If I see you near my place again, I'll fuckin' blast you."

"Fuck you," Jacob snapped, then disappeared down the hall.

"Was he trying to break in?" Xane demanded, wondering if he'd been spotted or not.

"Yes, the dumb-ass," Jordan muttered, shoving his key into the hole and opening it quickly. "Christ, it would have been faster to just break the door down." He shoved into the room and looked everything over. "He come around here often?"

"Off and on," Judas agreed. "He plays a friendly neighbor."

"You guys didn't bring anything of value, did you?"

"Just the tv," Danielle shrugged. "But that was your orders."

Jordan nodded, turning the thing on and flicking around until he found a news station. "Come on. We need to nail up blankets over the windows."

"Wouldn't drapes be better?" Danielle asked, frowning a bit.

"We're leaving here," Jordan shrugged. "It won't matter in the long run, but to keep in any warmth for now we have to cover the damn windows. Let's get that done. We all just need to sleep in the main room tonight, too. If you're not on windows, start pulling out the mattresses…Jesus I hate these buildings."

- -

Chai smirked slightly at Jordan as he moved tiredly in the front door of their house. "Jon is pissed at you."

"What'd I do?" Jor asked, moving to kiss her cheek.

"Something about Xane," she shrugged a bit. "Something about the slave-trade…I wasn't able to follow it because he was drunk and ranting."

"So he called you?" Jordan blinked at his girlfriend, then shook his head.

"How's it going down there?" Quatre asked, moving from his room to study the pair. "Anything interesting?"

"We got broke into," Jordan returned, thinking back. "Someone stole a few blankets…tried to get the tv, too, but I'd…protected it," he snickered a bit. His cuffs had a radius that could be changed accordingly, and didn't interrupt the mechanism inside of televisions. "When I go back I need to bring more…"

"We should help," Chai muttered, thinking about the end number in her checkbook. "We should…set up a center or something."

"Could potentially get us down there," Quatre suggested, thinking it over himself. "We could set up a warehouse of blankets and warm clothes…seeing as it's getting cold."

"Maybe a few space heaters," Jordan noted, thinking. "We could set it up so we go to houses with babies and put up storm windows and things…calk the drafts. We'd have to be careful, because we'll be set up in Jon's area and the other places will get jealous…but helping like that will get other people down there too…maybe it'll be an easier winter on them."

"How do we do it?" Chai asked curiously, studying her boyfriend.

"Well, I'll set you up with a meeting with Une and give her a ball park figure…she can set up donation booths around town and stuff, and once we get a truck-load or two down there…and then later we can use trucks as cover for men. It'd be a valid operation…we could have it be a soldier drive or something, so our men show up there."

"As long as I don't have to start lying," she noted when he looked at her. "I get nervous when I lie."

"That's fine…it'll be a legitimate op with a bit of help…and this way maybe they can have a Christmas…and Thanksgiving."

"I'll just get a check, then," Quatre noted, grinning. "I can still access the family funds, they just try to press me on why."

Jordan smirked slightly, meeting his eyes. "Good idea…we can come up with a few big family names to get peoples attention. Let me shower, then I'll go run your proposal by Une…" he kissed Chai again, winked at Quatre, and moved toward his bedroom.

Chai considered him a moment, then smiled sweetly at Quatre. "I'll be just a few minutes."

He snorted, rolling his eyes.

- -

"Relena is coming," Heero noted to Wufei, staring across their living room. "She heard about Jordan's…Chai's…their idea…and wants to lend her face to the cause."

Wufei smirked at him. "You look just…so pleased."

"Shin was talking about coming in for a few days to get away from those bitch roommates of hers…and it'll coincide with Relena's visit."

"Didn't you two break it off?"

"She got pissed when we ran," Heero explained, looking the other direction. "We haven't really talked about it since."

"That's just…" Wufei covered his face with his hands. "Oh god, Heero. You know she's moved on."

"Yeah, but the whole unofficial end to our relationship makes things a bit…awkward."

"Not as awkward as what I just found out," Trowa noted, moving into the room and sorting through mail. "Relena's bad enough on her own, but guess who else wants to crash the party?"

Wufei and Heero both looked to him.

"Hilde herself is making an appearance."

The pair blanched slightly.

He snickered a bit. "God I can't wait for her to meet Chai…this should be _fun_."

"You're really…not funny," Heero muttered, looking around to Wufei. "Dear god, does Jordan know?"

"I don't know yet," Trowa returned, moving to sit with them at the table. "I just heard Une being all happy on the phone with…I think it was Dorothy, of all people."

"Oh god," Wufei flinched again, "she's not coming, is she?"

"No," Trowa reassured them. "Dorothy is smart enough to know that stabbing Quatre didn't go over too well. She's sending a check."

"Well," Heero muttered a bit resignedly, "I guess we're helping the people…in the wake of Zechs' speech, that should mean something to someone."

"Let's buy buildings," Trowa suggested, grinning a bit. "Maybe we could get on the covers of magazines again."

He wasn't really shocked when the only response to his idea was a pair of glares…it was all he'd been expecting.

- -

"As a front, it works wonderfully," Jordan noted, "but on a personal level I think I'm gonna lose my fucking mind."

"Why?" Chai asked, smiling at him as they waited for the plane that had just landed to open up and let out its cargo.

"Because," Jordan returned, giving her a fake smile, "the women who have everyone up in such a fuss are women tied into our personal lives…for the last six or seven years, or whatever. Noin is fine. She's still trying to land Zechs…she'll lecture us about duty, coo over how cute you are, then settle in to be helpful. Relena's going to try to run the show, don't let her…she's sweet as can be, but she's used to being in charge."

"You're making me meet important people again," Chai accused, then thought about what he'd said. "You want me to keep in _charge_?"

"It was your idea, and you're the one who I need in charge. You get me, you get what I mean when I say something…"

There was a hiss of air as the motor finally spun down and the door pushed out. Une moved up beside Jordan and Chai with a bright smile…and a stewardess move down the stairs as soldiers moved out to stand at attention near the doors.

"She's royalty," Jordan noted sarcastically.

…and then Relena herself appeared in the doors. She'd grown since Jordan had last seen her, and her honey-colored hair was held back in an artful braid. She was wearing a black tank top under a loose sweater…and the black version of the white pants Chai'd been wearing. It amused Jordan even more to note that she had the black version of Chai's shoes.

The princess hesitated on the end of the stairs as she beamed over the four pilots she hadn't seen in months, then focused and stared at Jordan himself.

"Hi, Lena," he muttered a bit embarrassedly, not sure what kind of reception he'd get from her.

Relena strode down the last few steps and across the tarmac…to slap Jordan hard across the face as the press started snapping pictures. "You have some balls…"

"Jesus you sound like your brother," he muttered, touching his face as he studied her. "You don't hit as hard though."

"Well, _this_ is a nice first impression," Chai noted, having shifted back some.

Relena focused on the girl, then blinked more at her before looking to Jordan.

"This is Chai," Jordan explained shifting slightly to indicate her. "She's who I was taking care of in Angels for the last five years…you know, the reason I _have_ some balls."

The expression on Relena's face changed rapidly from shocked, to amazed, to contrite. "I'm so sorry, Duo!" she muttered, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I didn't realize…it's just…"

"My name is Jordan now," he muttered, holding her hands so the press knew they'd made up. He didn't feel like having it screamed all over the tabloids that he and Relena'd been engaged in a secret romance before he'd disappeared…they'd probably make it out to be cold feet or something.

"Jordan?" Relena repeated, smirking very slightly as she thought about it. "Still Maxwell?"

He nodded.

"Oh geeze," she shook her head, turning to smile at Chai. "This mission was your idea, wasn't it? Bringing Christmas to Angels?"

Chai nodded, smiling a bit abashedly. "I know how hard it is, and the holiday seasons are always depressing."

"You poor dear," Relena leaned forward to kiss her cheek as well. "I'm at your immediate disposal. Anything you need."

"You the only one on this plain?" Jordan asked nervously, looking back to the machine.

"No…but we all decided we needed to slap you and it wouldn't do for us all to do it at once."

"Shit," Jordan groaned, moving clear of his girlfriend so she could chat with Relena and he could get this beating. "Why me?" he appealed to Heero, who was looking antsy off to one side.

"Because it's her fault you disappeared," Heero replied promptly, indicating Chai.

Jordan gave him a look.

"You _show_ up after _five_ years and you have the balls to _wait_ for us in greeting?" Hilde demanded in an evil sounding voice as she moved down the stairs to glower at him. "After all the _crap_?"

"Just slap me pretty-like for the cameras, Hilde," he muttered, sighing. "Get it out of your system so I can introduce you to my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" she demanded, moving closer to him. "You gonna traumatize her, too?"

"She won't be so bothered when I come to save her ass," Jordan hissed back, meeting the woman's eyes.

"You just _killed_ twenty-seven men and you're saying _save_?"

"No," he replied, studying her seriously. "I did that about six years ago."

She gave him a disgusted look, then moved past him toward Chai and Relena.

"I think that's a burn," Wufei noted, thinking about it, "but I'm not quite sure how."

Heero snickered.

"Well, brat?" Noin asked, moving down the stairs with her arms crossed. "Got anything to say for yourself?"

"Not to you," he returned easily, studying her seriously. "The immediate insult was to them," he indicated his comrades. "I've already apologized."

The woman moved up to stand in his face…and slapped the opposite cheek Relena had.

Jordan stumbled back hard, almost falling, not quite reeling from the blow and staring at the cement to his right as he waited for the immediate pain to vanish, then focused on her in utter disbelief.

She absolutely beamed…and pulled him into a hug.

"Was there any reason for that?" he demanded, hugging her back as he massaged his jaw. He'd forgotten that she regularly trained soldiers took crap from no one…shit…

"Nah, Relena just half-assed hers," she smirked at him.

"You're horrible," he muttered, kissing her cheek. "Is there anyone else on there I should know about?"

"No…they're the people with the numbers of what we brought. Is this your idea?"

"It was Chai's," Jordan returned, moving toward the girl.

"Is it a cover?"

Jordan ignored that. "We lived there together for five years, but she grew up there. Winter is particularly hard because half the people can't afford their electricity bills and the buildings are crap anyway. You have to go _buy_ drinking water when the pipes freeze-up."

"So…we're gonna do some real help, then? Not just whatever military front you're pulling?"

"This is Chai Benning," Jordan added, indicating his girlfriend. "Chai, these are Relena Peacecraft, Hilde Shbleiker, and Lucratzia Noin."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Chai muttered, smiling shyly at the three of them. "I'm glad for your help."

"Anything to promote change," Hilde was studying her with hard eyes, though.

Chai looked the woman over and somewhat dismissed her. "I'm not trying to change the world, just help the corner I called home."

Hilde's eyes, if possible, went even narrower.

"I have suitable rooms for you ladies," Une muttered, moving closer to them. "We've set up a special dinner tonight. We've been promoting the cause all week, so maybe if one or two of you could speak on how grateful the people will be for the help…I've had Chai muttering in large groups about how it was like for her growing up. She's cute enough that she got a few who wouldn't normally give a shit on her side…and then the ones who care…and your help should seal the deal."

"Hello, Ladies," Trowa muttered, moving up to them and looking them all over before looking around to Wufei. "Why do I have a girlfriend again?"

"Same reason I do," Wufei retorted.

"It's good to see you all again," Heero muttered, smiling around at them. "I have to go, though…"

…and he ran off across the field, looking to his watch.

"Short, sweet, and to the point," Relena noted, rolling her eyes and looking to Jordan. "You two still close?"

"Always," Jordan agreed.

"What's he doing?"

"Picking up his girlfriend," Jor shrugged. "He's trying to talk her into moving onto base, and it's harder to do when you annoy her by being late."


	34. Hell's Rest

**Hell's Rest**

Xane was in the kitchen when the door swung open, and he ducked down instantly.

"Okay," Heero's voice was slightly curious…though there was an edge to it, "aren't we missing someone?"

"He's around," Jordan reassured him. "Where you at, Mouthy?"

Xane stood straight to blink at well, first a dark bruise on Jordan's left cheek, then Yuy…and then Chai.

"Hi!" she exclaimed happily, sweeping into the apartment and bouncing to Xane to hug him. "It's too quiet without you guys around," she added, moving to the others.

"We miss you too," Judas returned, hugging her back.

"You're finding stuff out though, right?" she demanded marginally pointedly.

"Well, sort of," Riley shook her head. "Everything's sorta iffy."

"Highness," Xane gasped as Relena entered the room. He'd been born and raised in the Americas, but his parents had actually been Sanq citizens, and seeing their queen suddenly appear in _his_ doorway…

Riley, Danielle, Judas, and Raul hopped to their feet immediately, eyes wide.

"Hi," Relena returned to the boy, smiling at him before turning to look almost incredulously to Hilde and Noin.

"Wow, you're cute," Noin noted, moving closer to him. "I love your eyes…"

Xane realized he should probably blush at that, not smirk, but what was done was done. He blinked as the little boy Zachary moved into the room, then Shin herself. Heero's girlfriend greeted the green-eyed male with as much enthusiasm as Chai before also sweeping across the room. It was somewhat obvious that she was messing around, as opposed to Chai's genuine pleasure.

"I bet it's you that Chai rolls her eyes about," Noin noted, moving even closer to him as Shin disengaged and Jordan started introducing the group around.

Xane shrugged noncommittally, then blinked as she grabbed him by the chin and studied both sides of his face.

"It is," Heero agreed, moving around her and digging into his pocket. He pulled out a simple chain with a smaller medallion on the end and offered it to the boy.

"What's this?" Xane asked, blinking as the woman settled back a step.

"That's…a tracker, isn't it?" Noin sounded confused. "Why are you giving him a…"

"_Shht_," Heero cut her off before she could finish, giving her a pointed look. "Later, when Jordan's not around."

"What about me?" Jordan asked, turning back to them.

Xane dropped his hand out of sight. "I've just been informed that our precious angel," he moved around the room to drape an arm across Chai's hips, "rolls her eyes when I come up in conversation." He tucked the necklace into his pocket before it could be noticed.

Chai giggled and ruffled his hair for it, though she didn't attempt to pull away.

"You better watch yourself, boy," Jordan informed him, pointing at him in warning. "And if she says _anything_…"

The girl broke into naughty laughter as Riley, who was tired, settled back into her seat. She sat forward to show she wasn't blocking them out, and a moment later, Raul was also sitting. Judas shrugged to Danielle then resumed his seat as well. Danielle grinned at them, rolled her eyes in Xane's general direction, then sat herself.

"Building's secure, sir," a man noted from the door before anyone could speak, saluting to Heero as he stepped into the room.

"Good," Heero nodded. "Place a guard, but only stop people trying to come this way."

"I know Angels, sir," the guy muttered.

"Good," Heero gestured a dismissal and the man disappeared.

"What's this?" Xane asked, pulling away from Chai to poke his head into the hall…there were a few soldiers in it. He pulled the necklace on, studying the medallion a moment, then tucked it away as he turned back to the room.

"We have Relena Peacecraft in the building," Heero's tone was slightly sarcastic. "The building is secure."

Xane snickered, moving back and grabbing the back of Jordan's jacket as he passed. He hadn't thought about it, of course, it was just a reaction of not seeing the man in several days. The act, though, got a pointed smirk from Chai and a confused look from the woman standing beside Heero.

"That's Lucratzia Noin," Jordan added to him, indicating her. She was shorter than Xane, but her manner was not meek in the way of some women. She was very present where she stood, and also very comfortable.

Xane stopped to stare at her in disbelief as the name connected to the trainer of special force _units_. She had a familiar face, but he'd just assumed she was somehow tied to Relena. Hearing who she really was made him realize he hadn't even saluted her yet. He remedied it quickly as the others in his group jumped to their feet again.

The woman smirked, winked, then moved by him to the rest. "I hear the lot of you are useful to have around," she noted, "so I'm very interested in making friends. I need good people from time to time, and I know that if one of the Gundam pilots has their claws in you, you're not going to be useless frops…'cept maybe pretty boy back there."

"Hey!" Xane protested.

Heero gestured Xane closer, and the boy pouted obviously a moment before joining the guy. "That necklace is waterproof, so don't take it off to shower…or even to fuck, I'm serious. You never know when they'll grab you, and Noin might be able to see things for what they are, but…"

"What are you whispering to him?" Jordan demanded, turning to look at them again.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Heero teased, smirking slightly predatorily at his friend.

"I can get my answers from him, Chance," Jordan half muttered to indicate it wasn't a comment for the rest. "It's just faster to ask you."

The truth in that statement made Heero wonder how the guy would react once he found out about Corringer's threat. He grinned even more at the prospect of Jordan going postal again, then wondered if that was a bad thing to find amusing. It didn't matter. He adlibbed quickly. "James had a personal message for him. I didn't think it needed to be general knowledge."

Jordan rolled his eyes slightly, turning back to the main of the room again.

"Jor wants you to dump him, you realize that don't you?" Heero asked quietly. "James has this way of getting on his nerves…don't know why."

Xane considered that a moment, wondering how much of Jordan's drunken rant would be appreciated. That had been why Jordan had said the things he'd said on their walk home. Xane hadn't immediately noted the man's sway, and since he'd had plenty to drink himself, he hadn't smelled the stuff on the guy's breath…but hindsight. Hindsight's twenty-twenty.

"I'm gonna go get things moving," Jordan muttered, thinking a moment before jerking his head to Xane, indicating the boy should follow. "We'll be back in a while."

Relena, Hilde, and Noin watched them leave with interest before looking around to Chai…who rolled her eyes.

Riley sniggered.

"Bonding is just so cute," Heero muttered sarcastically, moving to scoop up Zach. The three year old had been moving around the living room and looking from person to person.

"How old is he?" Relena muttered, realizing she'd never heard the child's age.

"Three," Shin replied, moving to sit next to Judas.

"How long have you two been together?" Hilde demanded, blinking between them.

"About three years," Heero noted, blinking at them.

"Is he _yours_?" Relena demanded in disbelief. There was enough of a resemblance in the child's face that it was entirely plausible.

Heero stared at her in utter disbelief.

"I thought the same thing," Danielle noted, then shook her head. "He swears up and down she was pregnant when they met."

"She was," Heero muttered, blinking at the girl, then looking around to Relena again as the idea fully formed in his mind. It wasn't the first time someone had thought Chip was his, but there hadn't seemed to be a lead up to the question. "Two months or so, weren't you?" he added to the Chinese girl.

She nodded, smiling slightly at him.

"Where's Wufei?" Danielle muttered before anyone could ask the woman who the father was. She had a feeling they didn't want to know, or maybe Shin herself didn't know. "He's coming, isn't he?"

"You shittin' me?" Heero teased with a grin. "He was ripping up the wallpaper last night in agitation. Unfortunately, he had to wait for the second round of trucks. They'll be here in about twenty minutes…I'd imagine."

Danielle pouted.

"Ah, so _you're_ the daisy girl," Relena muttered with a smile, moving around to study her with interest.

Danielle smiled slightly. "He told you?"

"Trowa did, actually," Noin returned. "Tro refers to you as the daisy girl."

That got a bit of a giggle, then more of a pout.

"We've been here for about a three weeks," Raul explained with a grin. "She's only got to go back to base about once. They're both dying."

"So what's the story with green-eyes?" Hilde muttered, gesturing with her head toward the hall.

"Mouthy is a physical person," Chai explained, moving around toward the kitchen. "He touches, and that's an affection Jor can't seem to get enough of."

The girl accepted that, looking around as Raul started muttering to Shin and Judas bounced across the room to join Chai.

"You really worried about them?" he asked. "Jor said…"

"I tease him," she explained with another smile. "He's not into guys, so it's not like it's a genuine concern. I think it's funny that they're all touchy feely. Not very masculine, if you ask me."

Judas smirked and ran a hand down her face.

Chai giggled at him, then smacked him for it. "I never said _you_ were masculine."

He laughed happily at that, pretending to pout at her.

"What food do we have?" she asked, winking as she started looking around the kitchen. "I think we're all considering being hungry."

- -

"So here's the deal," Heero muttered, having finally pried Xane off of Jordan. It'd only taken him an hour or so. "I told you earlier the tracker is waterproof," he started as they moved down the street toward the building Jordan was buying. "You need to keep it on, which is a given, but I have the program for it loaded in my phone," he flicked through his menus and displayed the screen to Xane.

There was a small red light flashing in a picture that otherwise made no sense.

"You have it on, right?" the man added, zooming down so you could see the label of 'hell on earth.'

"Yeah," Xane agreed, pulling out the little thing and showing it to him.

"The chain is made of Gundanium," Heero noted, glancing at it. "I had a fuck of a time making it."

"You made this?" Xane was startled.

"Well, there's a jeweler's shop on base, and when the notion of Jor going postal again hits me I get insomniatic. I figure they can't just yank the chain off, it'd decapitate you first."

"Oh, now _that_ is a lovely idea," the words somehow failed to reassure Xane, who lost the bit of pleasure of it being made for him. The notion of losing his head was enough to quell the bit of gratitude he'd been about to express.

Heero sniggered slightly. "I thought you might appreciate it. See?" he tilted the screen of his phone for the green-eyed male to see again.

This time, the image was obviously a map. It amused Xane somehow to see that the building they were heading toward was marked with the label "hell's rest".

"Eastland and I were fucking around before I loaded the program on my phone," the man noted with a grin, wondering how much further in the satellite photo would zoom. "I was with him when I decided to load the program."

"Eastland?" Xane asked, blinking. "You mean Duty?"

"Yeah?" Heero asked in return, frowning slightly.

"What did you tell him?"

"About what?" Heero wasn't entirely sure why his companion seemed lost, which in turn made him lost. It was almost like the conversation was going right over both their heads.

"About the program," Xane snapped. "Doesn't he have a tech degree or something?"

"Something like that," Heero agreed, then shrugged. "I still don't get…"

"Wait," Xane stopped, grabbing Heero's arm to stop him as he processed a few more ideas. "Duty knows?"

"That's how I made sure you weren't followed to your parents' house," Heero studied him. "He's…he got upset at the idea."

"And that doesn't seem wrong to you?" Xane demanded, allowing his voice to rise. He was feeling frustrated and confused, and somehow like he was doing Jordan a disfavor. "You just tell whoever the fuck you want to…and we can't tell Jordan? The one person who _needs_ to know about it? Especially since he's figured half of it out himself?"

"It was my call to make," Heero noted, studying him. "You have a problem with it?"

"I've _always_ had a problem with it," Xane retorted irritably. "Jor's gonna be _pissed_."

"But not psychotic," Heero crossed his arms. "You don't want to see what he'll do if he finds out before you're nabbed."

"Darwinian proportions?" Xane retorted, thinking to Tirone's words. "Heero," he focused again, "I don't _care_ what he's likely or unlikely to do. We can assert some control over him…"

"Whoawhoawhoa," Heero cut him off, stepping back slightly. "Back up here, cowboy. What do you mean, _we_? What do you mean, assert some _control_?"

"We can talk to him," Xane pressed, moving closer again. "Come on, it's not like he doesn't listen…"

"Which makes it _worse_," Heero snapped, grabbing the guy's right upper arm and leaning closer to him. "He'll hear you out, acknowledge your opinion, and do it anyway. You don't _know_ Duo…you don't _know_…shit, my comment about him being _psychotic_ completely glanced off you! I'm not talking about him just being really pissed, here, Xane. Duo's not psychologically _well_."

That brought a pause as Xane connected Duo with Jordan again. He didn't think of his superior as the famed Duo Maxwell.

"And there's no _we_ to it," Heero added, backing off again. "I'm saving us all a lot of heartache by taking care of this myself…"

"Until I get nabbed," Xane noted, not moving. "I have to pussy-out if the situation gets difficult, and that may be the point when I'm needed most…but…"

"Atrocity, Xane. A-trah-ci-ty," Heero drew the word out pointedly. "Do you _need_ the definition here?"

"I can _deal_ with torture!" Xane shouted at the man as the couple months of aggravation hit him again.

Heero stepped forward…and swung.

Xane reeled, falling back against the building and further onto his ass. He stared at the suddenly very close sidewalk as he tried to connect what exactly had happened, then why it had. The elbow he was leaning against was throbbing, since it'd hit the wall, he'd basically landed on it.

"Granted," Heero noted in a very low voice, "I'm stronger than all of them…but do you still _honestly_ think you could deal with that kind of thing non-stop?"

The green eyed male pushed himself up slightly, shoving his jacket sleeve up to look at a bleeding wound on his elbow.

That had _hurt_…

Heero kneeled down in front of him, offering him a packet of sanitary wipes. "Sorry," the pilot added quietly, not quite meeting his eyes. "You just have to think these things through a little more."

Xane took the wipe and tore it open, starting to wipe the elbow down. Finally, he raised his eyes to study the man's face, not sure what to say, or even what he felt.

"Here," Heero added, taking the thing from him and holding it in half with a sigh. Xane flinched when he initially moved toward his face, but refrained when Heero persisted. "You don't get what people like him can do to completely innocent people," the man added, thinking to Zachary Baits...Tirone.

He focused on what he was doing again as he shook his head a bit. He hadn't meant for a backhanded blow to draw blood, or even realized he still had that particular ability. He was going to hear about this from Jordan, and the man might even start a fight, considering his reaction to the idea of hitting Xane…yeah, there was definitely gonna be a few more blows over this one.

"I'm sure your logic is fine," Xane muttered, flinching slightly at a thread of pain that was instantly apologized for. "But…come _on_. I was just threatened…if he can get me. If we tell Jordan that much…"

"You know that woman up there, Hilde?" Heero muttered, settling back and folding the wipe back up to shove in the packet. "She was his girlfriend back in one-nine-seven. It was late that year when she was taken. Jordan, on his very own, slaughtered twenty-seven people…all men from ages eighteen to forty-five. The place was a blood-bath…and even he was covered in blood. He had three magazines on him when he went in and no one's sure how many he ended up using since he took and used the magazines of the men there. It took him…twenty minutes," he decided as he thought back. "Twenty minutes to kill twenty-seven men."

Xane was staring at the sidewalk.

"He has no remorse, Xane. None whatsoever. I know Corringer's bunch are wrong, but they don't deserve to be murdered…not like that. There are more of them, too…and if you _are_ taken, god-forbid…if you _are_ taken…I'll give him my tracker."

"But why can't we _tell_ him?" Xane hissed back, meeting his eyes. "It's just a passing threat…"

"Because _atrocity_ makes it more than a passing threat," Heero shifted back on his heels a bit, studying the younger male seriously. "His choice of phrasing…and the idea of doing it to keep us docile…Jordan was out a long time. Angels," Heero looked the buildings they were near over, "Angels made him hard. He's not the same guy he used to be, and while he doesn't seem so fit to snap anymore…there's an entire possibility that he'd decide that the threat to the line and the threat to you were worth their lives."

"Isn't it?"

"No," Heero said firmly, still studying the younger male. "It's not worth a cold-blooded fight where he'd kill everyone unless he himself was killed…and that doesn't need to be tagged into your psyche."

Xane looked away.

"You can trust me," Heero added, extending his hand as he rose to his feet. Xane studied it like he wanted to refuse it, then sighed and accepted the hand up. "I know that it has to be hard on you. Your first loyalty is to Jordan…but we don't know him anymore, and that doesn't bode well considering what he _used_ to do."

"Why did you hit me?" Xane muttered, realizing that if Heero'd wiped it and it stung, there'd definitely be a mark.

Heero almost reminded him of what they'd been saying, then realized the reality as well. Jordan was waiting for them at their destination, so that meant they had maybe five minutes to make up the story.

"I…said something…something about Relena," Xane decided, meeting his eyes. "Inappropriate comments concerning her person…it was a reprimand and you didn't man to hit that hard."

"I _didn't_ mean to hit you that hard," Heero noted. "What comment would it have been?"

"Something sexual," Xane muttered, touching his cheek gingerly and flinching. "That smarts…"

"That was the point," Heero reminded him, smiling slightly and sighing. "He's gonna kick my ass."

"I hope you don't mind my saying it," Xane noted, moving slightly away to give himself more room to dodge, "but I hope he _does_."

- -

There was something altogether amusing about Xane showing up with a gash along his cheekbone. Not because the wound itself, though, but because Jordan's reaction.

Quatre watched in amusement as the formerly-braided male turned to the two men with a smile on his face and froze completely. His emotions flicked through the entire range before finally focusing on anger as he looked to Heero.

Heero was massaging his knuckles.

"Jordan, wait…" Xane started, dodging forward…but not quite fast enough.

The anger and anticipation of the anger slammed into each other as Heero stepped back to prepare for the blow, and at the same time, Quatre swooped in and pulled Xane away. Like a pair of vicious dogs sharing the same space, Jordan and Heero lashed out at each other with snarls.

Almost in that same motion their hands met and they grappled against each other as they toppled to the floor…poor Zachary, who had been sitting at a play-station while his mother organized the toys a few feet away, darted to hide his face in his mother's skirt.

"_Chance_!" Shin protested. "_Jordan_…come on…"

Neither were phased by the words as Xane stared at them in disbelief…and Jordan broke free, punching Heero in the face hard…just the once.

Heero groaned, moving his hands to the face as Relena, Noin, and Chai spilled into the room to stare.

"He's fucking _mine_," Jordan snarled in French, kicking Heero's side. "Don't _fucking_ touch him."

At least, Quatre thought that was the general meaning. His French wasn't great.

"Are you all right?" Jordan added, focusing on Xane and moving toward him. "What happened?"

"Shoot first, ask questions later," Quatre noted somewhat smugly as Shin moved in to help Heero. "Doesn't that usually get you in trouble?"

"Heh, whatever," Jordan turned past them toward a trashcan, which he spit in.

"That went past the cut," Paris noted, moving forward to look between the pair. "That was more than just Mouthy."

"They both want to be top-dog," Quatre explained, moving away from Jordan again. "You can't have two lead-dogs on the team unless they're muzzled."

"I told you we should have brought them," Trowa noted from a hall he'd come down at the fuss. "Why didn't you grab them?"

"I didn't think there'd be an issue where we needed them," Quatre admitted, frowning slightly.

"I'm still really likely to kick someone's _ass_," Jordan spat at his friends.

"Knock it off," Chai snapped, moving forward toward him. There was a quavering note in her voice, but she stood her ground.

Jordan focused on her in disbelief. "He _hit_ Xane," Jordan's voice raised as he spoke, though he wasn't looking at her. "I got _pissed_ at him for _suggesting_ it and…"

Chai shifted slightly nervously as the rest in the room noted that her chest was heaving…not to mention the wave of almost palpable anxiety that Quatre and Paris were exposed to.

"Maybe you should ask your boy _why_ I hit him," Heero shot at the man. "Your precious little angel has a mouth that I don't appreciate."

"I _**told**_ you," Jordan wasn't quite shouting. "That's **not**…"

"I said knock it off," Chai snapped at him, her voice quavering very slightly.

And that was when Quatre realized she was testing her power over him.

This boded well. The blond glanced nervously to Paris.

"I'm not saying he was in the right," the girl added quickly, "I'm just saying that you need to st…" she swallowed, clenching her slightly shaking hands, "_stop_." Her voice had risen very slightly on the last word, and it had seriously come out more an order…which explained why she'd stumbled over it.

Jordan looked away from her, shaking his head.

Heero hadn't noticed the girl's hesitance, rising from the floor and opening his mouth.

"Don't," Chai ordered him, turning on him as the quaver became a bit more evident. There was some fear in her now. "Just leave it lie."

"He just fucking _attacked_ me!" Heero half-shouted at her. "He didn't even _ask_!"

"Hey," Jordan started, moving forward, "don't fucking raise your voice to her…"

"Stand _**down**_," Noin snapped at them both.

"But…"

"He…"

"I didn't _ask_," she snapped, looking between them both with narrowed eyes. "Pissing contests go _outside_."

They both stopped, staring at her with anger. They were pissed.

"Get away from each other now," she snapped, glowering at them in turn, then blinked at Chai. "Jordan, take your girl somewhere private before she passes out…Heero, look after the boy."

And that was the key. Distraction.

Quatre smirked at Noin as the guys separated in opposite directions.

Noin shook her head. "Sometimes," she muttered, shaking her head with a sigh, "sometimes I'm glad I have to deal with you shit-heads on a regular basis."

"Hey!" Quatre protested.


	35. Alternate Reality

**Alternate Reality**

"He decided to shake it a little bit," Trowa explained to Doug, making a violent looking gesture in front of his chest, "see what fell out of the cracks."

"That sounds…violent," Doug noted, studying his leader's hands. He met Tro's eyes again. "You sure this is a good idea?"

"I honestly don't give a _shit_," Trowa noted, shrugging. "I don't want them to get away, I mean, but I'd be just as content to figure out the likely buildings they're in and camp out for a day or two so we get enough men down here…then take the buildings."

"Laying siege, seriously?" Doug demanded, focusing on his leader in disbelief.

"Why not? It worked when dirt was young."

"Or when man was young," Doug retorted. "Warfare isn't that…"

"Its war, Doug," Trowa cut him off. "It's not some romantic poem, not some epic novel…it's a fight between two men and those who choose to follow them. This particular war is Matthew Corringer and Heero Yuy. Which is the lesser evil?"

"Obviously, Yuy," Doug suggested a bit tentatively. He knew it was a question with no right answer.

"Mat's means were fairly straight-forward," Trowa protested. "See, shoot, kill…rinse, repeat if necessary. Clean, efficient, cheap."

"And that's why we're crawling like rats through the back alleys of hell, hoping Satan doesn't look our way," Doug noted sarcastically, looking the depressed buildings over.

"We have the devil's playmate on our side," Trowa grinned. "And we're crawling like rats because Yuy's the lesser evil."

Doug snickered, focusing on his friend a moment.

Shots rang out in the distance and dogs started barking. The two soldiers met eyes a moment, then darted up the road. They spilled into a scene of randomness that neither could comprehend as a man looked at them and disappeared into the night. Another man was sitting on the sidewalk, cursing like a sailor with one hand at his leg.

"This is not what I was expecting," Doug noted, blinking down at the man.

"We're in Angels," Trowa noted, pulling out his phone and holding down the two. "Can't expect much."

"Just take my money and get the fuck away," the man on the ground ordered them, starting to drag himself to his feet.

"Hey, just rest," Doug protested instantly, moving to settle him back down. "We don't need your money."

The words made the man freeze completely…his eyes were huge. He broke away from Doug and stumbled back a few steps as he stared at them, then turned and absolutely _ran_ in the opposite direction.

Doug stared after him in amazement.

"Talk to me," Jordan muttered through the phone.

"Well…I sorta don't need to now," Trowa replied, also blinking after the man. "Doug, what just happened?"

"What? What's going on?" Jordan sounded mildly interested.

"We heard shots and went to investigate," Trowa explained. "One man ran off…the other'd been shot in the leg."

"So bring him in," Jordan noted.

"Well…that's kinda where not needing to talk to you comes in," Trowa explained, studying his second. "The guy told us to take his money…then freaked out and ran off."

"What did you say?"

"I was waiting for you to answer," Trowa noted.

"Okay, what did _Doug_ say?" Jordan's tone was mildly sarcastic.

"He didn't need the guy's money…told him to rest…"

Jordan started laughing.

"Why would that…"

"He's gone, isn't he?" Jordan asked, still laughing. "Ran like a rabbit, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Tro returned, not appreciating the laughter.

"You dumb-asses," Jordan laughed even more, then repeated the story to Chai. Her laughter joined his. "Jesus, that's stupid shit, Trowa…very _stupid_ shit…maybe you didn't catch it, but slavery isn't _gone_."

"What?" Trowa demanded as Doug's expression clouded.

"You heard me," Jordan returned, still amused. "I could have sold Heero to Jon for a good mil or two when you guys first showed up and we'd never see him again…well, okay, bad example," he corrected that one. "You get my point, though, huh?"

"He thought we were…slavers?" Trowa demanded slowly.

Jordan laughed again. "Next time you come across a man shot in lower Angels…don't tell them you don't need their money. Everyone needs everyone's money."

"That's fucked up," Doug muttered.

"I'm gonna go," Jordan added, amusement still heavy in his tone. "Yuy just got back."

"All right," Trowa muttered, closing his phone and looking around somewhat abashedly.

"Slavers…" Doug muttered, staring off down the street. "_Slavers_…"

"Oppressed peasantry," Trowa noted, "laying siege…where the hell are the catapults?"

"I don't think we _want_ to know," Doug retorted. "Shit…I just wanted to help."

"We can do real help in a day or two when they get Hell's Rest in order."

"Whosa-wha?" Doug asked him blankly.

"Hell's Rests?" Trowa repeated, grinning a bit. "Heero's got a satellite image of that building Jor bought on his phone. We're in hell, and that's hell's rest."

"Shouldn't it be like…Satan's Rest or something?"

Tro shrugged as they started for their original destination again. It was a hole-in-the-wall bar Jordan'd sent Raul, Judas, Danielle, Noin, and Riley into…that and a few more men Noin had picked of her own accord. These men, naturally, included Trowa, Doug, and a few guys off of Heero's team. Jor's team had moved in first, and the rest were supposed to snag the guys that bolted.

"Maybe Hades' Hallow," Trowa mused.

"Reaper's Haven?" Doug offered.

"Odin's Hall?"

Doug's face curled into an evil looking smirk as he turned to meet his friend's eyes. "Angel's Sanctuary."

"Oh _ow_," Trowa cringed at the suggestion. "Just…ow…"

"Come on!" Doug protested. "We're _in_ Angels and it's supposed to be a help center!"

Trowa had started laughing, shaking his head a bit. "Just…_ow_."

- -

Wufei studied the line of people that stretched down the street a few blocks before wrapping around a corner, thanking whatever gods were available that they had _plenty_ of supplies.

Having their mission as a front and a reality was an interesting mix. Heero's entire team, Wufei's entire team, and Trowa's entire team, were assigned to the place…the rest of the men were volunteers who just wanted to help. Having a huge power like Lucratzia Noin didn't hurt anything either. That was just from the soldier side of things. The people had been won over by Relena and the occasional clip of Chai.

In all, the entire thing had been set up in about three weeks. A building was bought, cleaned up and altered, then crammed to the brim with stuff from people…in three weeks time.

Wufei had always thought that kind of thing would take months, but then again, there were people like Relena and Jordan organizing it. Relena could get anything done, and Jordan…well, he was Jordan. Give him a mission and he'd have it ready in the shortest amount of time he could manage. The building, which they were all calling Hell's Rest anymore, had been an abandoned one of a sort. The owner hadn't been able to afford keeping it up, so he'd kicked everyone out and closed it down. The few homeless people who'd been in the building had initially freaked out about having to leave until Jordan told them they could get rooms if they'd fuckin' help. His actual phrasing had made Wufei cringe and Relena go a bit white in the face, but Chai hadn't even turned a hair.

The little comparisons of life…it was sad.

Icy cold sprinkles of water started spitting from the grey clouds overhead and Wufei heard a vast sort of groan travel down the line. He nearly turned to order his men to erect canopies for the soldiers, then realized that might start a riot. Movement caught his attention, and he turned to look at the front of the building as a soldier appeared in the door, shouting orders around. In moments, the men were scurrying to erect the canopies…over the line.

It was a little thing, but those canopies were meant for the soldiers to remain dry in their full uniforms, and the people in the line hesitantly started to try and help…and Wufei had never been more proud in his life. It was just…a little thing…but sometimes it's the little things that count, right?

"Chang?"

Wufei turned to the soldier who'd approached him, wondering if he looked intimidating or something. He was also in full uniform, after all. "Yes?"

"Where do you want your cover set up?" the man asked, indicating the pavilion sitting not far away.

"Over the line," Wufei returned with a grin. "I've been wet before, I won't melt."

"Sir," the man saluted and he and some of his friends grabbed the thing, moving to the line as a few cheers started.

Wufei raised his phone to his ear, having already hit the two.

"Talk to me," Jordan muttered somewhat tiredly.

"I love you my darling," Wufei returned in a bad fake accent…of no particular origin.

Jordan muttered something at him in Russian…

"Okay, don't do that," Wufei snapped at him. "I know Heero understands about as many languages as you do, but I've got about four."

Jordan laughed, "Chinese, French, English, and…?"

"Japanese."

Jordan laughed more. "What's up, loverboy?"

"It's getting a bit wet out here."

"Aren't the men setting up the pavilions?" Jordan appeared in the door to the place with a confused expression before looking across the thirty-some-odd feet that separated them in confusion.

"Well, wet leads to cold, right?" Jordan nodded. "So…couldn't we get some sort of heater thing for under the pavilions? How long is it taking in there to get things sorted out?"

"We're getting the intricacies worked out," Jordan explained. "After another half hour or so we should have it figured."

A cheer started from somewhere around the corner and they both looked that way in confusion.

A flatbed truck appeared around the corner with Zechs standing in a cleared area like some sort of prince…wait, he was a prince, wasn't he?

"He's pretty," Jordan noted, starting to laugh. "Send him around back, will ya? We've got men out there unloading trucks."

Wufei hung up and nodded as Jor disappeared back inside the building, and waved to the driver. Zechs was still carrying his cane, and was waving to the little kids that were bouncing up and down near their mothers in the line. The cheer spread even more as the truck Zechs was in stopped next to Wufei and another truck appeared at the corner with men running to pass out steaming cups…coffee and hot chocolate, Wufei imagined.

"A bit wet out here, isn't it?" Zechs asked the Chinese man happily. "You're gonna weigh about a hundred pounds more if you get soaked."

"I've been wet before," Wufei noted. "There's an unloading zone around back. We've got men working on getting all of Relena's stuff inside."

"How's the asshole?"

"Which asshole is that?" Wufei returned as a few people in the line snickered.

"I just figured you'd pick one and tell me," Zechs grinned. "Get yourself some coffee."

As if it were a cue, a man came running up to Wufei with red-cheeks and the sort of smile that someone has when they know they're doing a good deed.

"Thanks," Wufei muttered, taking the cup. "Take a moment to rest."

"There are still people out there who don't have any," the guy protested instantly.

"You won't do anyone any good if you collapse," Zechs noted. "Maybe just take it a little slower?"

The man laughed a bit, but did turn to walk back toward the second truck.

"I'll get more pavilions set up here in a few minutes," Zechs noted. "Me, you, and a few of the others should get out there and get our hands dirty."

"You gonna freak on Jor again?"

"The man's name is Duo," Zechs retorted.

"No, it's not," Wufei smirked at the blond a moment. "I'll start laying out more pavilions."

"Dump your gear," Zechs suggested, tilting his head. "This isn't entirely a military operation. You don't need it all."

"I'm not the only one fully decked-out, Marquise. Don't worry about it."

"Suit yourself, you're gonna be hatin' life here in ten minutes." And with that, Zechs pounded on the roof of the truck with his stick…and the car moved off down the road.

Wufei grinned, sipping from his cup…he liked his coffee with milk and sugar, but he wasn't going to make waves over something that was really just meant to help.

- -

The line didn't seem to _end_.

Heero was tired as he walked along the lines of pavilions and the rain soaked even further. One of the more industrious teams had gone out and bought a huge amount of blue tarps, and those were strung up between each pavilion, hanging down on the windward side. Propane heaters were fairly cheap and ran for long amounts of time. These were set up at intervals along the corridor…chairs had shown up, too.

How many people _lived_ in Angels? How many people couldn't meet their own basic needs?

It was depressing to see the line that didn't end, and he was no longer sure they had enough to help the people…

His phone started to vibrate, and he noted Jordan's number as he opened it. "Hello?"

"We've got a woman here with three kids. Can you get a couple guys together and go put some plastic on her windows?"

"Sure," Heero returned tiredly.

"You okay?"

"Have you seen this line?" Heero returned, moving away from hearing range. "Just _realizing_ how _bad_ it is down here…"

"You know, it's the little things," Jordan reminded him in a quiet voice. "Making winters less cold…providing food stuffs…warm blankets…we're _helping_."

"For now," Heero agreed. "But what about…what about spring? Summer? Next fall?"

"We can keep Hell's Rest as a help center," Jordan noted.

"And you'll fund it?" Heero retorted, pacing around a building and rubbing at his eyes. "You'll just keep feeding these people? What happens if your money runs out?"

"We use your money," Jordan noted in amusement.

"Duo, I'm serious," Heero snapped. "We can do this forever…we won't always have people willing to volunteer down here."

"So then we need to make it better," Jordan retorted. "We need to fix it. Call your officer's club and try to get something going…and don't call me Duo."

Heero ignored the latter addition. "It's your club, too."

"No, not really," Jordan returned, smiling slightly at the woman who was standing near him in confusion. "You getting people? I was kinda hoping we could get the teams set up."

"Oh…yeah," Heero rubbed at his eyes again. "We did so much…and what has it done? We stopped Romefeller's oppression…we stopped…the shit with the colonies…but here on the planet? It's all well and good to joke about this as hell, but…how many other hells are there?"

"I've always heard 'nine' hells," Jor noted, still sounding amused.

"Why…_how_ can you laugh at this?" Heero demanded, making a gesture to call in three men. It didn't matter to him who went with him…

"Because there's no use crying over spilled milk," Jordan retorted. "I'm gonna fuckin' make Q give you some of his Prozac."

"You're _not_ funny."

"Q thinks I am."

Somehow, Heero wasn't surprised that the blond was attached to Jordan. With the three men who'd joined him giving him curious look, Heero turned and started back up the endless lines of people with hope in their eyes.

"Don't doubt what we did," Jordan added. "The wars were their own kind of hell, but we succeeded in making the world a better place…we're _here_ because we make the world better."

"How many places are _like_ this?" Heero whispered, smiling at a little girl who came to tag along with him and the other men.

"I don't know, Chance," Jordan muttered. "I don't know, and I honestly don't want to know."

They were quiet a moment longer, then Jordan hung up.

"I've seen you on TV," the little girl noted to Heero, still curious.

"Have you really?" Heero asked, pretending to be amazed. "Are you sure it was me?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "I don't know why, though. The TV was muted."

Heero smiled at her again.

"You walk fast," she noted, having to mostly run to keep up with them.

"I have to go do something," Heero explained. "You should probably get back to your mom."

She stopped, thinking about that. "Okay," she decided, then turned and darted back into the line.

"What are we doing, sir?" one of the men asked uncertainly.

"We're gonna go put plastic up on windows," Heero returned with a grin. "I know it's exciting, but hey, someone's gotta do it."

"Ooh," the guy looked pleased as he looked to the others. "I was hoping I'd get to do that."

"If that's sarcasm, I agree," Heero noted, grinning more.

"Hey, come on…you have any idea how _fucking_ cold it gets down her? Oops," he covered his mouth briefly. "Sorry."

Heero grinned at that, pulling the door to the building open.

There wasn't really too much to say about that.

- -

The emotional swelter was…distracting. Unlike at their pep-rally for Beedus, though, Quatre wasn't having to battle off all of it himself. He kept to Chai or Jordan, and wished Paris' abilities didn't make it so impossible for him to join in. Watching the people move through the building from registering them at the front to wishing them well at the back was sort of…unnerving. It was like a great big machine. In one end, along the conveyer belt, out the other…

"I think I want to go away," Quatre muttered to Jordan, looking around. They were sitting in an area that provided other sorts of help. Specifically, looking for any other poor empath who could use some times with quietings.

There weren't that many, actually.

"Back to the apartment?" Jordan asked curiously, looking back to him. "Why don't you take Xane?"

"Okay…you aren't going to attack me if I make him frown, are you?"

Jordan laughed and gave him a dirty look. "I'm not _that_ bad."

"Yes you are, you're worse. If you were _fucking_ him, I'd understand it…you aren't, are you?" Quatre grinned very slightly.

The question got a very level look in response.

Quatre laughed again, looking around. The green-eyed boy was never far from one of the pilots, for all that the mass of people would make it very hard to nab him.

"You know as well as I do that my attacking Heero only had some to do with Xane," Jordan added. "You know Heero and I go head to head all the time…and what you didn't know was that Heero suggested _I_ beat Xane so he'd be able to handle it if he were grabbed."

"You _know_ how bad they fucked him up," Quatre retorted, blinking at his friend. "They didn't treat him like a human. It changed him."

"If I started hitting Xane around, it'd give him bad issues," Jordan retorted. "You see how he is with touch."

"You don't have to prove yourself to me," Quatre reassured his friend with another grin. "I'm just messing with you."

"Why are you so happy, anyway? I thought this many people'd fuck with you."

"That would be why I'm leaving," he grabbed his coat. "Keep in mind I've had this my whole life."

"Okay…I'll see you later."

"All right," Quatre muttered, focusing on the tired looking guy as he moved back into the room. "Come on, Mouthy."

"Huh?" Xane asked in confusion. There was a definite sag to his shoulders.

"I'm going back to the apartment and want you to come with me."

"Why, sir…" Xane made a gesture like loosening a tie, then stopped and looked to Jordan.

"It was my idea…go get some rest," Jordan reassured him.

"Later," Xane muttered, turning to gather up his jacket. "It's really dark outside," he added to the blond as they started down the hallway past smiling people. "Walking home will suck."

"But we won't be alone," Quatre noted, rubbing at one eye. "Man, I'm tired."

"You okay?" Xane pressed. "Is there something I can do?"

"I'm fine…just…there are a lot of people in here."

"And you couldn't very well stay on the base," Xane nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. "I need to get laid."

"I needed to hear that," Quatre noted. "How out of nowhere…and you better not even _think_…"

Xane laughed, looking at him. "I was actually thinking of James. If I could take off for a night I would, but everyone'd go all psycho on me…and if you repeat the word atrocity to me, I'm going to get testy."

Quatre laughed ducking into the room Trowa was manning and indicating he was leaving. The guy waved at him and he moved further down the hallway, checking in with everyone.

"You guy are really close," Xane noted when they'd finally made it to the front doors.

"We…well, we all started out alone, but as time went on we had to rely on each other more and more. We were only kids, you know? We just sorta…went with it."

"But I saw you guys around the base before and you hardly even looked at each other, let alone make sure everyone knows you were leaving."

"We had issues…I mean, first and foremost, when Jordan ran it was because Une wanted to run him through psycho evaluations. He didn't want to, so he talked us all into breaking with him…we all assumed he'd reappear with us, but he was just gone. None of us wanted to admit we'd been fucked over by someone we loved, so we just…didn't talk about it. Then we didn't talk about much…and then we stopped talking to each other altogether. I'm sure you noted our friends. Used to be that me and Heero couldn't _stand_ Morgan…I don't really mind him anymore. He's something of an acquired taste…but I was off with Paris all the time. Heero…he kept looking for Jor after we'd all given up on him, and that furthered the breech. Turns out he got himself sucked into some odd group of friends. That's why he's an orgy boy. All we knew is that he'd disappear of Friday nights and reappear on Sunday nights. I get odd readings off him sometimes…but that has to do with his thought processing more than anything. Tro's got all those friends in Doug's apartment building, and well…you know? When Marquise was shot, it brought us crashing back together because he was all of our friend. We went down to Angels…ended up in Jordan's bar…and the rest is history."

"All of it was history," Xane noted.

Quatre snickered and elbowed him, then focused on him with huge eyes. "Don't tell Jordan!"

Xane snorted, shaking his head as he touched the cut. "He fuckin' backhanded me…knocked me on my _ass_."

"Yeah…he's strong like that."

Xane snickered. "It was hot."

"Yeah, you need to go take a cold shower when we get in."

Xane laughed again. "Freaked me out initially, but with how absolutely casual he was about it…you guys are all fucked up."

Quatre gave him a look.

"Then we get into the building and Jordan absolutely attacked Heero…it was just insane."

"Annoying, you mean," Quatre corrected him. "The two of them annoy the piss out of me."

"He did it for me, come on," Xane muttered in amusement.

"Not entirely."

"No, but mostly."

Quatre gave him a look, then focused on walking.

There was no point in arguing.


	36. Findings

**Findings**

"We're ready," Raul informed Jordan in a low growl as he moved into the room where the man was sitting.

Jordan looked up to his man, then considered the information as the person he was talking to gave him a confused look. "How far away?"

"A few blocks," Raul hesitated, looking to the person.

"Let me tie this up," Jordan noted, gesturing to the person as he shifted forward in his seat, "then you can show me."

"Sir," Raul saluted, then turned and started back into the hall.

"So," Jordan muttered, focusing on the person again, "how may people live in your household?"

- -

"Shot sweet as honey," Jordan whispered, looking down his scope at the head of Matthew Corringer. "Single shot to solve one problem…"

"But opening an entire can of worms," Riley noted.

"Mm, but I could take him out," Jordan muttered, drumming his fingertips on the trigger-guard.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Judas muttered, "but isn't that illegal?"

"If a tree falls in the woods," Jordan returned, "and no one is around to hear it, does it still make a sound?"

"You're not in the woods, there are no trees, and there are things there to hear it," Raul muttered. "Come on, Jor."

Jordan's finger twitched and he sighed, un-cocking the weapon. "What do we know?"

"We know…that there's some sort of wheelin' and dealin' going on in there," Danielle replied easily. "Shouldn't their sanctuary have ended by now?"

"That was a partial assumption that can be disregarded," Jordan muttered, still staring at the man through the scope. "I want our facts."

"He's worked out a deal with whoever replaced Lamb," Judas supplied. "His sanctuary will continue as long as he does something for the man."

"The man?"

"I haven't caught his name."

"Bet ya it's Allen," Jordan noted, glancing sidelong to them. "I bet you its Ray Allen."

They shrugged, committing the name to memory and looking to each other.

"What's this something, then?" Jordan asked, kicking himself vaguely that he couldn't do this job himself. He wanted to see his people in action, not just have to rely on their results. It wasn't like he minded helping out at the Rest, but he wanted the cloud out from above all of their heads.

Rain started to fall.

"I think it's another assassination," Judas muttered, thinking. "It's hard to tell, though. I mean…they don't talk about it in front of people. Actually, as far as I've gathered, all of the base-guys that he was relying on before are reduced to menial duty."

"Seeing as they left Baits his cell phone, I don't think I'd trust them so much either. Are they keeping up any semblance of order and rank?"

"Some of them are, some of them are just flunkies."

"How far in are you?" Jordan asked, focusing on the guy.

"Judas kiss," Judas returned with a slight smirk. "I'm going as far as I can make it."

"Don't push it too hard," Jordan cautioned him. "You don't need to get to the top ranks. I just want to know what's going on in there. If they're more apt to rip each other to shreds we might just wait them out until it's conducive to raze them."

"Raze?" Danielle asked blankly. "Have you been reading again?"

Jordan smirked and shook his head, looking back through the crosshairs as a man he really wouldn't mind removing. "It's something that Tro pointed out to me," he explained, fingering the trigger. "There are slavers, oppressed peasantry, revolutionists," he clicked his tongue slightly, mimicking pulling the trigger. "They were trying to figure out where the catapults were."

"Mortars?" Raul asked with a sick note in his voice. "God, I hope they don't have those."

"I do what I can, but my attention is split," Jordan muttered.

Danielle groaned a bit as Riley giggled and Judas smacked his hand to his forehead.

"Yeah…remind me not to say the lord's name in vain anymore," Raul suggested to Riley.

Jordan grinned at him.

- -

Xane frowned as he looked around the building, tucking his hands into his pockets. He wasn't sure if it was just him, but there didn't seem to be any of the pilots around. He'd heard Jordan leaving beforehand, but he'd heard a comment saying he should wait. He'd done so for a good twenty minutes, but he didn't want to sit on his haunches while everyone else did stuff…and now he was alone?

"I was told he was here," someone was muttering down a side-hall. "He's gotta be here somewhere. The others aren't here, you saw'em all down at the mission…"

"He's probably up in the royal apartment," another man snapped.

Xane froze, then darted across the hall into an open door. He ducked into someone's room, his heart starting to beat wildly.

"We can't get up there," the guy noticed. "Or I'd say we should just go knock on the door."

"Dictate," Xane whispered into his phone's mic, noting that it turned on in whisper mode.

"I don't know, they might let us by," the second noticed. "Just say we're here for green-eyes and call it good?"

Xane closed his eyes, running a hand down his face.

"No, we just can't do it right now," the first snapped. "We can get him when they walk to the shelter…he's usually only got one person with him…"

"Listen," the second muttered from almost just outside the door. "I hear someone."

Xane set his phone down, loosening his gun in its holster. The fact that he knew they were looking for him had sent his blood to alternately boiling or freezing, and the single-minded focus seemed based around Heero sending him flying against the wall.

"In here," the guy whispered.

Two men darted into the same room as Xane, closing the door behind themselves, then turned to look at Xane. There was a moment where they stared at each other in shock…then the taller one slammed the butt of his pistol against Xane's temple…and everything went black.

- -

"He's not _with_ you?" Jordan demanded of Heero, his voice raising a few octaves. "What do you mean, he's not with you?"

"He was sleeping in the apartment when I left," Heero returned, hitting the autodial on his cell that he'd assigned the boy.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

"Heero!" Jordan started.

Heero ended the call at the recorded voice message, staring at his phone in horror a long moment before meeting Jordan's eyes.

"What?" Jordan asked, instantly noticing guilt.

"I…heard…Corringer talking…you know?"

"Yeah?" Jordan demanded, staring at his friend.

"He…said…they'd grab Xane…perform some atrocities on him to keep you docile."

Jordan went cold. Everything but his anger dripped away as he stared into Heero's guilty blue eyes. "That's what's been going on," he noted, turning his focus toward the building he'd _seen_ Corringer in. "I wondered why you kept pulling him aside…why he was so upset. You _did_ tell him, didn't you?"

"I had to," Heero explained. "I didn't want this to happen."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"It's been a bit more than an hour now, I think," Heero returned. "You guys had been gone for a while." He offered Jordan his phone, and this time the satellite image of the area had a red blinking dot.

"You got a tracker on him?"

Heero nodded, looking away.

Jordan turned, his mind instantly going to how many weapons he had readily available…and his cell phone started to vibrate.

"Talk to me," he muttered, noting that Heero was tagging along a few feet behind him as he started for the building they were staying in.

"Maxwell, hi," Corringer sounded pleased. "I was starting to wonder if this was a wrong number. We can skip the pleasantries, though," he added. "I have something you rather want, I think."

Xane cried out in the background and Jordan stopped walking completely as the coldness was replaced with a sort of agitated heat.

"He's such a pretty little thing," Corringer noted. Xane cried out again.

"You're a dead man, Corringer," Jordan informed him quietly. "You won't see the sun set."

"Oh, I will," Corringer purred. "If you want to see your boy again, I will."

"What do you want?"

"You'll hear about it when I need it," Corringer noted…and Xane cried out again. "In the meantime, just try not to piss me off, huh?" The call ended and Jordan lowered his cell phone, noting that his hand was shaking.

"You can't kill them all," Heero whispered, moving up to his side. "You can't…not all of them."

Jordan focused on him, narrowing his eyes. "If you'd have told me about the atrocity part," Jordan spat, "I wouldn't have let him out of my sight…so I'm kinda thinkin' you don't have much say I what I do right now."

"What's wrong?" Trowa asked, moving out of the apartment building and blinking at Jordan. "Why are you shaking?"

Jordan met his eyes. "They have Xane."

Trowa straightened.

"Jordan?" Quatre was moving from the building with slightly shaking hands. He offered up something, his eyes wide. He'd heard the ringing phone…and gone to investigate the opened door.

Jordan took the cell phone, pulling it open to see a digital read-out of time. The phone was Xane's, and he knew it because there was a single loop of green thread around the base of the antenna.

"One hour, twenty minutes," he noted aloud, ending the timer and looking around to Heero.

"I'm sorry," Heero looked away.

"Get your men," Jordan spat at them. "It's time to move."

Quatre convulsed in shivers as Jordan disappeared into the building, rubbing his arms.

"Hey!" Wufei muttered, darting in to notice the look of eminent action as Morgan moved up with him. "What's wrong? Q?"

"They have Xane," Quatre half-whispered, not looking at him. "He's so…scared," Quatre added, looking around to his brethren. "He's terrified."

"Terrified?" Heero asked blankly. "Don't you mean pissed?"

"No," Quatre muttered, hugging himself tighter. "No…Jordan…is scared."

- -

The pilots moved into the building shouting orders. The disciplined soldiers were sent scurrying from their tasks as a cold force of sheer anger washed through the entire building…and no one else had any idea what was going on.

Relena watched Heero shouting down the hall in a crisp tone of clear command, then watched as his crew started taking actual machine guns down the hall from the supply area. There was an outcry from the populace of Angels, and they scurried out of the way as more and more weapons appeared.

"I _knew_ it!" Zia crowed, moving into the hall and snatching her own set of weapons up. "I _knew_ there was more to this!"

"Noin!" Heero's tone was icy.

"Sir," she shouted back instantly, then blinked.

"Get the Prince and Princess to safety, _now_."

"Affirmative," Noin agreed, turning and starting to tug Relena toward the doors.

"Marquise!" Wufei's voice absolutely thundered from his mouth. In moments, Zechs was spilling down the stairs. "With Noin, _now_!"

"Sir," Zechs agreed, looking around in confusion as he noted the hubbub. "What's going on?" He asked Zia when they got nearer. Trowa tossed him one of the rifles, then pointed at the door commandingly.

"I don't know," Relena muttered as she was rushed out of the building. "They came in shouting orders."

"With Noin, _now_!" Wufei's voice sounded highly pissed off, and a moment later Riley and Danielle were joining them, both absolutely bawling.

"They've got Mouthy, don't they?" Zia breathed, staring at the girls in dawning horror.

Riley nodded.

"What? Who? What's going on?" Relena demanded as Zechs shoved her forcefully to the inside—which was when she realized that Danielle and Riley _were_ crying, but she was the only one without a weapon.

"The people who tried to kill me," Zechs noted, his eyes moving around everywhere.

Relena would have stopped if she didn't have Riley pushing her forward. "Oh god…"

- -

Jordan stormed down the silent alleys as he heard the men start moving in the proper sort of direction. He had the three phones silenced on him, and wondered briefly if he should have given Heero his own phone, but at the same time, he didn't care.

He'd seen the building…Judas was in the building, and had given him a layout. Further, the satellite image on Heero's phone indicated that his tracker, at least, was on the backside of the building and probably three stories up.

Jordan wasn't quite sure what he was going to do when he got there…if they opened fire on him, though…well, hopefully he wouldn't be covered in blood this time.

- -

Xane noted Judas vaguely as his eyes came back into focus, then stared at his feet without acknowledging his friend. Corringer wasn't the only man in the room. There were several. There was no way in hell the other could take them all down, get Xane unlocked, and get them out, so they had to wait for Jordan.

Fuck it hurt.

He'd known that being beaten wouldn't feel good, and Heero'd seriously made his point on the street…but…god Heero was right.

Judas nodded slightly questioningly at him, asking if he were all right. Xane returned a shrug, assuming no one was looking.

"You _fucking_ idiot!" a man shouted, storming into the room and making them all jump. "Are you in-fucking-sane? Do you _realize_ what Maxwell is doing as we _speak_?"

"He won't be doing anything with his pretty boy here," Corringer noted, nonplussed by the man's demeanor. The man moved up to smile slightly into Xane's face. "Will he, sweet-cheeks?"

Xane looked away.

Matthew grinned slightly, looking to the other man again…and stumbled backwards as the man backhanded him.

"You're a _fucking_ moron!"

"What _could_ he do?" Corringer spat. "They're all so tangled in that mission…"

"That _front_!" the other man was shocked. "He got all those soldiers down here to take care of _you_! And what do you do?" the man moved up and pulled Xane roughly off the chair. "You take his precious?" He shoved Xane against a counter, starting to pat him down. He was snarling under his breath as he did so, and Xane wondered briefly what he actually had in his pockets. "Where is it, fucker?" the guy snapped. "Where's the tracker?"

"Huh?" Xane returned, deciding to play stupid.

The man sent him flying on his ass so his head slammed into the floor. Stars exploded across his vision and he groaned, wishing his hands had been free. If his hands had been free he could have kept the impact from being so hard.

"Tracker?" Corringer demanded.

"You're fucking stupid," the man snapped, pointing at Corringer and moving back to be in his face. "Do you have _any_ idea what resources the Gundam pilots have at their disposal? The absolute _access_ they have to _**every**_ military secret?"

Corringer blinked.

"They saved the fucking world, imbecile," the man muttered. "They saved the world and you think taking some pretty boy they love won't send them at our throats?" He turned and gestured toward the men standing around the room. "Battle-stations…" he laughed a bit. "Jesus…" he turned back to Xane as the group scurried out and Judas hesitated in the door. He didn't want to leave Xane behind…not to their clutches…but…

"Venga," someone snapped in his general direction.

Judas wasn't sure if it was supposed to be a name or a different language, but he turned to follow obediently.

There was nothing he could do.

- -

The swat vans went down first, lining the road at the halfway point as the soldiers on hand fanned out to secure the perimeter. Heero was in pace with the men themselves as he wondered where Jordan had _gone_. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of the other pilot since he'd disappeared into the apartment building, and the extent of the damage he'd been known to cause…

"North quarter is stabilized," Wufei's voice came to them over the radio. "Copy that, over?"

"Copy," Heero agreed with the other pilots.

"West side is secure," Quatre agreed. "Over."

"Copy," they repeated as Heero made the gestures that would clear out the civilians in the area as well as close off the roads. They were within about a block of the building Raul had pointed out to Heero, and the man was tensely standing in the ranks. His eyes showed nothing, though his knuckles were white as they gripped his weapon, and his movements were crisp.

So the girls broke down, Judas was infiltrating in a Trowa-fashion, and no one knew where to look for Jordan.

This was wonderful.

"South side," Trowa noted. "Where are you, Yuy?"

"We're getting in position now," Heero returned promptly. "Any signs of our broken arrow?"

"Nothing," they confirmed almost in unison.

"What do you think…what do you think he'll do?" Heero asked, swallowing slightly. He would have felt bad for the men who'd been sent on a helpful mission and ended up in full armor, but there was something about a radio screaming about a massacre of twenty-seven men that just wasn't letting him think of the current situation.

"Click, boom, ah," Trowa retorted. "Don't ask stupid questions, Yuy."

"Is this my fault?"

"Yes."

"No."

The blame seemed broken in half.

"It'll be your fault if any of those atrocities you mentioned come up," Raul noted, looking around to the guy.

"All clear!" someone shouted from the very front of the line as the call was echoed back behind them.

"We've got the east," Heero noted.

- -

Jordan slid through a window and instantly started swinging. Outside he could hear the soldiers moving into position. The first of the three men was out cold before he even realized there was danger. The second had an ounce more of warning, and the third was staring at Jordan with huge eyes that stated very well that he knew what came next.

Jordan knocked him out, then went about gathering their weapons as he listened intently. The building was breaking into chaos, and he knew it was only a matter of time before someone popped into the room to gather those men.

He moved to the door, listening intently a moment, then slid out and moved with the hustle as unobtrusively as he could. The men around him were covered in about as much weaponry as he himself, and no one really paid him any mind…at first.

Then someone from the base saw him and froze.

"Say it," Jordan whispered in his ear, pulling out one of his pistols as he moved in closer to the man. "Announce it. I've got a semiautomatic with more than enough rounds than this rabble will take. Announce who I am."

The man swallowed hard.

"Come on, pretty," Jordan added, looking toward a room with an open door.

"What are you gonna do to me?" the man asked in a scared tone.

"Knock you out a little," he noted. "Can't have you making a scene when my back is turned."

"What's going on?" the guy asked with fearful eyes as Jordan shut the door behind them. "No one knows what's going on."

"Corringer decided he had a death wish, and as the god of death, I'm obliged to comply."

The guy swallowed.

"Have a wonderful nap," Jordan muttered…and knocked him out.

- -

"He won't do anything with pretty here, huh?" Allen demanded of Corringer in disgust as he looked out at the swat vans that were lining the streets and the soldiers that went along with it.

"I'll just kill him, then," Corringer noted, turning back to Xane.

Allen grabbed his upper-arm. "You sure you want to do it like that? You _know_ about Maxwell, don't you? You kill him, you won't make it out of this alive no matter what strings you pull."

"How do you even _know_?"

"Everyone knows about Duo Maxwell," Allen retorted.

"You could just…I dunno, let me go," Xane suggested.

That got him a look from both of them.

"If I'm not in here, he won't come in here to find you, and I'm not so stupid as to stay put once untied."

"You're funny," Allen noted to the boy. "Now shut up before I do something permanent."

Xane looked away, having no intentions to question that order. Corringer went about things in odd ways that seemed half-baked, but this other man looked like he knew what he was doing.

"Why aren't you begging or something?" Corringer demanded, moving around to him and forcing his chin up. "You should like…be admitting secrets or something."

"If you don't mind, I'd rather just sit pretty," Xane returned, attempting to lower his head. "There's nothing I could say to you to make you let me go, so why offer something?"

Corringer backhanded him.

"You get off on that, don't you?" Allen muttered to the guy in mild amusement. "You sick fucker…"

Corringer narrowed his eyes at the man.

"Listen, I don't know what Lamb saw in you, but I have an obligation to work under his plans until they find his body…"

"What makes you think he's dead?" Corringer snapped.

"Shit, you kidding me? Breer's wanted him dead since an incident about four years ago. The timing of the deals had to be just right before it would go down, or he'd have gotten his…braided…" Allen focused on Xane as several facts clicked in his mind at once, and he stared at Xane in disbelief.

Xane spat a mouthful of blood past Corringer's pants.

"That's Maxwell," he whispered, staring at Xane, then looking to Corringer. "Oh my god…"

"What?" Corringer asked, moving away from Xane.

"Maxwell…was working for Breer the entire time," Allen muttered, sitting back against a table as he weighed the political meaning there. "Maxwell…was Breer's little toady."

"On an amusing note," Xane muttered, "Breer likes me."

They blinked at him again as he realized it'd have been smarter if he'd kept his mouth shut.

"You annoy me," Corringer noted, moving toward Xane again. "I just want to let you know that."

"I'll wear black to your funeral," Xane returned.

Corringer hit him.


	37. After Dark

**After Dark**

Jordan stepped onto the stairs to the third level and looked up as someone moved out of the door ahead of him. He and Judas stared at each other a moment before Judas turned to lead him up the way.

"Dude, what are you doing?" someone shouted behind them. These people had moved past Jordan without really seeing him.

The laugh from Judas' mouth was cold as he flipped the man off and darted through the door.

"He'll…be back," one of the other men noted, not even noticing that Judas was leading Jordan and turning slowly with a confused look to his comrades.

Jordan moved through the door, noting that someone suddenly dropping what he was supposed to be doing should have caused some kind of alarm. It shut behind them with a thud, and Jordan looked around to take stock of the new situation.

"Corringer's beating the _shit_ out of him," Judas noted with an obviously angry expression, heading toward another door up the hall. "I don't think he's done anything permanent yet, but they chased us all out."

"They?" Jordan demanded, grabbing his man's arm. "I can't just break in there, you realize that? Until one of us can get to Xane…"

"It's Corringer and another man," Judas explained, pulling cuffs off his belt and offering them up. "Front or back?"

"Back," Jordan agreed, crossing his wrists behind him and listening intently to the movements. "Yuy and them should just about be set up outside."

"Did we really have that many men down here?"

"Yes," Jordan agreed in amusement. "Mostly. You know they'll have backups."

"Yeah," Judas composed himself, looking around.

"If you're gonna double cross me right now," Jordan informed him, "you will be dead."

Judas tsked at him, meeting his eyes. "How could you think that?"

"I don't think you'd do it," Jor reassured him, "that's why I said if. The only thing keeping me from killing everyone here is the fact that most of them are just stupid."

That got him a grin and a swallow. "You ready? I'm gonna do the panicked thing."

Jordan stretched his neck very slightly, then nodded. He organized his expression into one of irritation as Judas started shoving him roughly forward to the door at the end of the hall. He slammed into the door and grunted before Judas shoved the thing opened. He stumbled slightly, then looked up…and froze.

Xane was sitting in a chair with his hands bound behind his back. One of his eyes was swollen almost shut and there was blood trailing down his face in general. The slump to his shoulders suggested that he'd given up at some point, and he barely lifted his head at the intrusion, then sat up as he realized exactly what was going on.

Distant sounding shots started outside the building…

"What the hell…" Corringer started, turning toward them…and Jordan saw blood on his shirt…and blood on his knuckles…

"Son of a _bitch_!" the other man…Allen, shouted, pushing away from the counter he'd been leaning against. "Don't bring him in _here_!"

"Jordan!" Xane muttered, shifting forward where he sat.

Judas unhooked his cuffs. "I saw him on base before! He was just walking up the halls like nothing!"

"You _idiot_!" Allen shouted, pulling his gun…but Jordan was free. Allen froze completely as Jordan's weapon raised and he turned to look at Corringer.

Corringer was staring at him in disbelief, obviously not comprehending what had happened.

"Judas-baby, get Mouthy for me, will you?" Jordan purred at his man.

"As my god wishes," Judas muttered with a mildly amused smirk, darting forward and stopping when Corringer didn't move. He raised his pistol and set it against Corringer's head as the pair stared at each other. "If a tree falls in the woods," Judas asked him, "and there's nobody around to hear it…does it make a noise?"

Corringer's hands moved up slowly as he understood the meaning behind the words. He stepped back, looking almost fearfully toward Jordan.

"You know," Allen noted, "this really isn't worth it."

"Excuse me?" Jordan demanded, focusing on him.

The man raised his phone to his mouth and hit a button on it. "We're running like pussies, leave the wanna-be revolutionists to their fate."

Jordan smirked at him. "We have the building surrounded…did you not notice that?"

"We only need one exit," Allen noted, looking between them…and suddenly he had a gun pointing at Judas' head.

Judas stopped, though he had Xane untied and the man was wiping at his face.

"You can look me in the eyes and even pretend I won't kill you?" Jordan asked him curiously. "You can stand in front of me as a needless thing, and think that I won't just blow you away?"

"Legality never _has_ been your fine point…though I'm very curious to know just what you were doing with Breer the last few years."

"I was surviving, actually," Jordan noted, thinking a moment as he focused back on Corringer.

"Do you need him?" Allen asked curiously. "I wouldn't mind seeing him dead."

"Not particularly," Jordan muttered. "The only reason anyone is left alive in this building right now is because Yuy pointed out to me that it's not all of their fault."

"Um…I'm going to kill your man," Allen noted, moving his gun in a way that suggested he'd meant Judas, not Corringer.

"No you're not," Jordan noted, not even looking away from Corringer…as he dropped the rifle, pulled one of his many pistols, and shot the new kingpin in the leg…then the arm. He watched the reflection in the window, which he'd used for his aim, as the man's weapon fell and he cried out, barely keeping his balance.

Judas turned and slammed his fist into Allen's face, then laughed a bit, looking around to Xane. "I've wanted to do that for a long time now."

"Cocky bastard?" Xane asked curiously, then turned to look up at Corringer. The man was frozen where he stood. "Shouldn't you be begging or something?" Xane hissed, rising to his feet. "Spilling some deep dark secret?"

Before Jordan could move or react, Xane had punched Corringer in the face. The blow successfully knocked the man on his ass against the wall. The green-eyed man followed this up with a kick to the man's side, and Corringer shouted hoarsely as he tried to scurry away from the attack.

Xane looked anything but happy as he turned to focus on Jordan, studying him as the fighting continued outside.

Jordan studied his friend's face a long moment, then looked slowly toward the windows. "Doesn't it figure that I didn't bring a walkie?"

Judas rolled Allen onto his face, having cuffed him, and shook his head in pretend disgust. "Some god you are."

"You have your phone?" Xane asked, moving slowly and shakily back toward Jordan.

"And yours, actually," Jordan muttered, pulling out his cuffs and tossing them to Judas so the man could lock up Corringer. He grinned slightly as he shifted the rifle to hang on his back, digging out his phone as Xane moved in closer to him, then leaned against him. The green-eyed man pressed the offered phone away, pressing his face into Jordan's shirt. Jordan smiled slightly, ruffling his hair as his eyes fell on Corringer again.

The man was staring at him. He made the gesture more affectionate as he stared back at the idiot, then hit the four on his phone. He'd almost called Heero, but seeing as he had that phone in his pocket, it would have done no good.

"Hey, Q, guess what?" Jordan muttered when Quatre'd answered his phone.

"You're alive, that's a good start," the blond noted, then started protesting something.

"How many did you kill?" Heero demanded, having successfully pulled the phone from the blond. Yet another instance where he wanted his _own_…

"That's not fair," Jordan retorted. "You're not fair to me."

"I need a number, Jordan," Heero snapped. "If you went of the rocker again we have to be ready to account for the shit."

Jordan closed his eyes, pulling Xane closer to him before swallowing slightly. 'The shit,' as his friend had put it, was taking part of the credit so it wasn't only Jordan who got the blame. He appreciated the sentiment, but it left something to be desired.

"None."

"What?" Heero demanded.

"I didn't kill anyone," Jordan snapped. "I didn't _have_ to."

Heero fell quiet a long moment.

"Allen told his men to run," Jordan added. "He said to leave the soldiers to their fate."

"Is there no loyalty amongst thieves?" Heero returned, sounding vaguely amused. "That'd explain the push on Tro's side…what say you?"

"You mean to let them through or not?" Jordan considered it. "They don't want to face the wrath of the government, so they'll make a severe push. I'd rather cut the casualties when I have what I came for."

Xane grabbed a handful of Jordan's shirt as some of the bruises decided to be remembered, gritting his teeth.

"Jude, you got a med kit?" Jordan muttered as Heero started giving other orders.

"Uh…no," Judas frowned, looking toward his friend, then grinned. "Look at it this way, Mouthy, you'll get to try Remalene."

"Fuck you," Xane decided easily, trying to relax.

"You comin' out, or should we come in?" Heero muttered curiously.

"I'm in the middle of the swarm with their leaders," Jordan noted. "I'd certainly hope you'd come to me."

"I was just asking," Heero noted, still sounding amused. "Here's blondie."

"Hey!"

- -

**Epilogue:**

The thing about the entire situation, Trowa conceded, was that it was a good hundred-plus fully trained, well disciplined soldiers…and three specials forces…four, actually. Granted, Jor's team was split up enough to almost be termed out of action. At any rate, it'd been three Special Forces teams with their leaders against…maybe eighty deserters.

In the end, after the mafia crew had broken through…been allowed to, rather, the soldiers themselves had pretty much forfeited. They had, after all, been well trained…and their leader wasn't saying anything.

There had to be a base of stupidity in the lot of them, really. The force to cause a real revolution had to be at least a single percentage of the opposing force. Numbers by the handfuls did little good.

Not that they hadn't caused a revolution in other ways. The revolt, as it were, had finally made some of the money-pigs realize things weren't quite fair, and while his own salary had been cut somewhat, it wasn't enough to cut him. On top of that, Hell's Rest would probably operate as a valid soldier-run facility for a few more years.

The most annoying part had been losing Allen. It wasn't like he was anyone they'd had in their sights, but he'd been an accomplice. On the bright side of the matter, even with the heavy push at the end of the fight, no one had died. All holy-hell would have broken lose if someone had _died_…as far as most people knew, it was just a charity organization.

Trowa didn't bother following the media.

"So, you know," Jordan muttered as he walked across his living room, thinking. "Me'n Judas come out, I've got Xane clinging to my shirt on one side and I'm shoving Corringer ahead of me with my hands…Jude has Allen…"

"Dude, don't _call_ me that," Judas muttered. "I'm not a chick."

"There are guys named Jude," Jordan focused on him with a frown.

For all that Raul had been the next guy in line after Mouthy, Judas had now fully taken over that position. Actually, Judas was sorta becoming the second, at least until Mouthy could prove himself.

That was fucked up, really, because Mouthy was very obviously the favorite of the five of them. That was why he'd been singled out and subsequently protected…sheltered.

"Besides," Jordan muttered, thinking, "if I say Jude-baby you don't turn a hair."

Judas was about to protest that, then thought about it. He grinned at his leader and flipped him off.

Chai focused curiously on Mouthy. "You have no issues with him saying you were clinging?"

"Well…I was," Mouthy tilted his head at her with a smirk.

Chai winked at him.

"So…we're standing there at the door as the men with big-guns sized up who we were and what we were doing…I mean, I'd chased the last of the soldiers out before me. So…"

Trowa really wanted to tell the man to get to the point, but if he interrupted, it'd be another distraction…an argument, actually.

"…we're standing there, and out from behind me come three men?" he directed the question to his second.

Xane nodded, and Jordan looked back to the people he was talking to…it was Wayne, Logan, Zechs, Relena, Hilde…well, everyone, really. Danielle was sitting with Wufei on a chair and the rest were kinda spread out across the room sitting or standing.

"They shove Xane against me, and I swear they hit him upside the head again," he ignored the scattered snickers…which were mostly from the guy's team…though James, who'd been brought in after lots of bitching from the green-eyed male, smirked at his boyfriend. "I had to catch him," Jor added, touching Xane's head in passing.

They'd all freaked out when Xane had passed out, because in that same moment, Judas had been knocked aside and the guys had grabbed Allen. After the shots had died down there'd been an unholy outcry to demand what was _wrong_ with Mouthy.

James glared at the man touching his boyfriend, but looked away before it could be noticed.

Jordan had to be doing it on purpose. Trowa smirked, covering it with one hand.

"So I'm all freaking out, trying to make sure he's not dead," Jordan continued, looking remarkably vulnerable for a moment. "I have no idea why he's out cold as shots are being fired to my left…the only reason I didn't kill the guy I shot was because someone else had shot a hair faster and changed his position…"

Quatre looked to Paris wordlessly. He wasn't ever going to mention that he'd been that former shot _because_ the guy would have been killed. Jordan had _wanted_ him dead.

"…they get beyond my site and disappear into the fucking night…and then people are converging on us. Corringer was given the proper arrest for all that he fell on his face, and the building is swept over…"

"I don't understand," Hilde muttered. Her face had been stressed since finding out that no one had died. There'd been plenty of wounded, but no one had died. "You were covered in blood when…when…"

Jordan focused on her with his look of hate, or whatever it was…disdain, maybe, then looked away. Trowa figured he was about to move on when he looked back to her and shook his head. "You refused to ever understand."

"Understand that you _massacred_ twenty-seven men?" she snapped. "On your _own_? I was there, you recall. The other pilots hadn't come in yet…"

"And this is _why_ we never _talked_ about it," Jordan snarled, losing anything resembling patience with her as he stalked forward. He yanked her off the couch, which had several people starting to rise, and shoved her against the entertainment center. "I never meant to _kill_ anyone that day."

She blinked, not expecting that as her tears spilled again.

"I never wanted to _kill_ those twenty-seven fucking men. They spotted me. I was sneaking up through the back-halls and happened to close by a main hall. I told you that much before, huh?"

She looked away.

"One of the fuckers shoved me into the main area where they were moving around…they were all armed. It was me or them…_us_ or them."

She closed her eyes.

"So yeah," he added, stepping back. "Yeah, I massacred twenty-seven men. Yeah, it took me about ten minutes to kill twenty-seven men…"

That fact made Trowa's blood run cold.

"But they kept coming, and I wasn't going to _die_ for them…not when you were in danger."

Hilde started sobbing silently as Relena darted in to pull her into a hug, giving Jordan a look.

Jordan shook his head, turning to look at the room again. "So I'm sure _you_ can understand what I felt when you asked me how many I killed," he added to Heero, who had stood and was just staring at him. "I'm sure you're kicking yourself for assuming I'd just…kill them all."

Heero looked away.

The silence lasted…maybe a minute, but that minute was an eternity. Jordan was looking away over everyone's head.

Trowa looked to Quatre, but Quatre had his face covered with his hands and Paris was looking away entirely. He changed his focus to Wufei, who studied him in return.

"And that's what happened," Jordan noted quietly, looking back to everyone again. "…that's…everything."

"So you're not as insane as we thought," Trowa noted, grinning slightly.

Jordan straightened at the affront, opening his mouth to reply…and started to laugh.

- -

"So what do you do now?" Heero muttered to Jordan as they walked along the sidewalk of the area Jor lived in. The sun had set long before, and it was dark. "You go away again? You stay with us? I mean…as long as you leave your address you can go anywhere. You just have to show up for the trial."

"I don't know yet," Jordan admitted, shoving his hands in his pocket. "I haven't talked to Chai about it yet."

"This really was all her fault," Heero noted, grinning briefly at the guy.

Jordan almost stopped, meeting his eyes, then frowned as he started to move at the normal pace again. "Let's see if I can get this straight," he muttered. "Xane getting kidnapped is Chai's fault…that's what you're saying, right?"

Heero grinned. "Yep."

"So…backing that one up through as much logic as I can feasibly apply here…" he thought again, then looked back to his friend. "Yeah…that one's not flying."

Heero sniggered and shrugged. "You ran off five years ago, met up with some little girl, and kept off of radar, correct?"

"Okay, I'm with you so far."

"So…we find you in some slum bar…and dig you out and get you back onto base. You're suddenly put in a position of power and given people under you…right?"

"I'm not connecting how it's Chai's fault, though…"

"The timing," Heero explained grinning more. "If you'd been here that five years, you'd have gotten the initial over-affection toward Mouthy out of your system. He would have been a target, but not so obvious a target."

"Hm…"

"So when this…revolution, or what_ever_ you want to call it came up, you'd have been here from the get-go."

"Not…quite…working," Jor informed him slowly.

Heero laughed, shrugging. "It's Chai's fault."

"Because god forbid it be mine."

"Oh, gracious no," Heero agreed, smirking as he looked sidelong to his friend. "The gods are above reproach."

- -

_**End**_

E/N: I edited this for some grammar shit and misspellings. -Apr 29, 07.


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